


Come Hungry

by SlipOfAScribe



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Astrophysicist Hermann, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blow Jobs, Canon Disabled Character, Depression, Escort Newton, Escort Service, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gay Sex, Idiots in Love, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Nipple Play, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Shower Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, Vanessa Gottlieb is dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 98,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlipOfAScribe/pseuds/SlipOfAScribe
Summary: Hermann Gottlieb is missing his late-wife and doesn't want to spend his upcoming anniversary alone so he hires an escort. Newton Geiszler has been working for Shatter Escort for a while, and he gets the most interesting request one night. The two have a night together, and both are left wondering where to go from there. It was a job, one night, nothing more. Right?
Relationships: Aleksis Kaidonovsky/Sasha Kaidonovsky, Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 54
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bad at tagging, so if I missed something you think should be tagged, please let me know :)  
> I don't have a beta for this one, but I"m trying to read through as carefully as possible. If there are some big issues, let me know;

Newton has rules. Perhaps not as many as some of the others who work for Shatter Escort, but they’ve served him well enough so far. Newton is one of the escorts open to sex, and those dates can be both fun and odd. He doesn’t mind some of the weirder asks, and he’s definitely gotten some  _ weird _ ones. He’s gotten some asks that make him squirm a bit afterwards. He’s taken a few jobs that make him question the business. But all-in-all, he enjoys his work.

This seems like it’s going to be a weird one. He reads the file sent to him and there’s not much detail there. It will be just one client. Male, thirty-four, a date at the client’s house, and one direction. “Come hungry.” His name is Hermann Gottlieb. There’s nothing else. Nothing about the type of companionship Newt is meant to provide, nothing sexual mentioned, no date outside of the house mentioned. Not even an outfit choice. But there’s the order to come hungry, and that’s something he supposes. Newt has done food-play before. He definitely has food he prefers to work with, and he doesn’t mind those who’ve got a thing for stuffing him so full his belly bulges. The food’s usually good and the person just wants to lavish him. It’s better than some other things he’s done. So, maybe just a chill night of being belly-worshipped. He could go for that.

There’s a picture of the client, Hermann, required by Shatter Escort to ensure the escort meets with the right person. Also having your picture on file tends to dissuade people from behaving poorly and hurting an escort or ignoring their ‘no’s’. 

The man in the picture looks stern. His face is all hard angles and deep brown eyes. He’s got a messy sort of undercut that Newton finds fits him well, though it would likely look ridiculous on most other people. Newton thinks he’s a good looking guy overall.

Newton goes to his closet and shuffles through his options. Something comfortable was probably best. The guy had paid for four hours with him so he wasn’t staying the night. A small bag then, with a change of nicer clothes just in case he does mean to take Newton out. And he always brings lubrication and condoms because the clients aren’t always prepared. They often aren’t even sure sex is on the table. He decides on a soft, black t-shirt and his favorite pair of jeans. They’re a little ripped at the knees, but he thinks they should be fine. He adds a nice button up and a clean pair of slacks in the bag with the condoms and then goes to shower.

He’s ready just in time to head over to Hermann’s and feels a little uncharacteristically nervous. The drive there is short; Hermann lives just a neighborhood over. It doesn’t give Newton a chance to get rid of those nerves, and he’s bouncing a bit as he parks out front of a nice looking house. He climbs out, grabs his bag, and starts up the sidewalk that leads to a porch and the front door. There’s a bed of flowers along the front that comes up against the porch. It’s a bit overrun by weeds. The door is a dark wood with a circle of glass that doesn’t quite let Newton see detail inside due to the beautiful stained coloring that depicts a little forest scene.

It looks so domestic, feels of home and family. Newton chews his lip and wonders if he’ll be helping someone cheat on a spouse. Shatter asks for those details to make sure an escort isn’t going into a dangerous situation, but people have lied.

Raising a hand, Newton knocks on the wood part of the door and waits. He hears footsteps hurrying over and then sees a shadow at the door behind the glass. The person is straightening their clothes, it looks like. Runs a hand through their hair. Then the door is opening.

Newton smiles and then nearly gasps aloud. Hermann is gorgeous. His dossier picture does him absolutely no justice, and as Newton looks up at the man now, he finds himself attracted. As his eyes trail lower and take in the sweater vest over the button-up with rolled sleeves and the plain slacks that end in socked feet, his attraction grows. The man looks like a professor, radiating an aura of intelligence. That has always been a big turn-on for Newton. But he’s not here for himself; he’s here for Hermann.

“Hi!” Newton grins.

“Hello,” Hermann says in a voice that is cast low enough that it hits Newton right in the gut. “Please, come in.” He has a British accent, and Newton is a sucker for accents. He steps aside and ushers Newton inside, opening the door wider.

The inside of the house is much like outside, with the same amount of homey mixed with a tinge of neglect. A little too much dust on the shelves, a pile of books clearly left unread on a coffee table. Newton immediately removes his shoes though because the floors are nicely kept and Hermann isn’t wearing any shoes. He sets his bag next to his shoes. “I’m Newt. Well, Newton but I go by Newt,” he offers when he stands up, holding out a hand.

Hermann looks at it sitting in the space between. For a moment, Newt thinks he's not going to take it, but he slowly extends his hand to Newton’s. “Hermann.” He has a warm, strong grip despite the awkward start.

“It’s really great to meet you, Hermann.” Newton draws closer and catches the scent of Hermann’s soap or cologne, a subtle citrus-like smell. “You've got a really nice house.” Newton wants to make him feel comfortable. A lot of times his clients start off shy or nervous. Or they push him against the door immediately and start for the heavy stuff if sex was part of the contract. Hermann seems the shy type.

“Thank you. I...I quite like it myself.” Hermann smiles and it suits him, those wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. “Um.” Hermann flutters a hand nervously and looks down at the floor. “I’ve never… Well, this isn’t exactly for, um, what you normally do.”

Newton frowns and wonders at what sort of thing Hermann might ask for that has him so nervous. He shakes his thoughts aside and reaches over, rubbing a hand up and down Hermann’s arm. “Hey, listen, there’s nothing you can ask for that's gonna surprise me. It’s all good, man. Your file said something about food?” He feels tense under Newt’s hands, muscles stiff to the touch. His arms might be lean, but they’re solid. All those layers are definitely hiding a sculpted physique.

“Right.” Hermann looks up and nods. “Perhaps if we were in the kitchen.” He clears his throat and when Newton nods, he starts down the hallway.

That’s when Newton notices the cane. Hermann walks with a bit of limp, a little hunched as he makes his way through his house. Following after, Newton wonders about it but doesn’t ask. Instead, he glances about. The hallway is lit only by the light that pours from the kitchen, but he can still see the few photographs on the wall. Hermann is in them alongside a beautiful woman. They’re leaning together, smiling, and they are most definitely a couple.

Newton swallows hard. Closeted men were another type of client he saw, and they were often difficult. There’s often some form of self-hate that comes with those types of jobs, and Newton has learned a lot about being a bit of a therapist in those situations. He’s also learned to expect some foul language if they skip the feelings and jump right to sex. It’s not healthy and not something he wants to deal with tonight.

The kitchen is warm and there are things out already. A cutting board has some veggies on it. There are pans on the stove, empty and awaiting food. There are two steaks out on the counter with seasonings next to them. The oven is on and counting down from twenty minutes. Hermann is standing in the middle of the kitchen, slipping an apron on over his clothes. His cane leans close at hand near the sink. 

Newton stops next to the start of the counter where he seems out of the way and leans a hip against it. Something is different in the feeling here. This is going to be a completely new experience, he’s sure.

Hermann sets his face in a way that shows Newton he’s ready to try and talk about the night, tight-jawed and drawn eyebrows. Newton makes sure to keep a lax, open position and offers a smile. Moving to stand by the cutting board, Hermann grips the counter with one hand. “I was married.”

And here it comes. Newton steels his face.

“But a few years ago, I lost my wife.”  _ Shit.  _ He isn’t looking at Newton, and the hand not on the counter is clenched at his side. “There was, well it was a terrible accident and quite unexpected.” Perhaps the accident has something to do with his leg. Hermann has turned to face the cutting board now, and as he gets his hands busy, the words seem to come easier. “I haven’t known what to do with myself these last few years.”

Newton wanders closer and places a hand on Hermann’s lower back. The man tenses a moment, looks at Newton, and then relaxes. That’s good. The contact doesn’t scare him, and maybe it’s what he needs. Being alone after that kind of a connection can make one touch starved. Newton isn’t touch starved, what with his line of work, but as he watches Hermann’s face, he realizes, not for the first time, that there’s something he feels is missing in his life. He rubs his hand up Hermann’s back as the man continues to speak.

“I used to love cooking for her, but now it’s just a task. A chore with memories I can’t get back. Tonight is…” He takes in a shaky breath. “Tonight would have been our sixth wedding anniversary, and I could not spend it alone again. I thought if I had someone to cook for, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Newton feels his heart breaking. This was most definitely going to be a new experience for him. “Alright,” he says gently. “That makes sense to me. Can I ask one question?”

Hermann nods and Newton stills his hand but doesn't remove it.

“Is this supposed to be romantic between us? I mean, are you bisexual and you want this to be a sort of date with something more physical, too, or simply dinner with a friend?” Newton needs to know the dynamic. He needs to know how he should treat Hermann. Every ounce of Newton says to take the man in his arms and hold him forever, but that’s the irrational side of himself, the part that believes in fairytale romance and shit that will never be.

“I’m--well, I’m not sure.” Hermann looks at him again, setting the knife aside. “I certainly find you attractive and the Shatter receptionist explained that it’s an open service. I like this, though.” He leans into Newton's touch as explanation.

The man is blushing furiously and Newton’s heart swells again. He nods to Hermann. “Yeah, I took the job 'cause you seemed a little unsure. We usually get a lot more detail, and it’s fine,” he assures as he gestures with hands. “Let’s just see how things go, hmm? You cook for me, and I’ll enjoy your company.” He smiles again and parks himself against the counter. “What’s in the oven?”

Hermann seems to be taken by surprise. He blinks at Newton a couple of times and then his body sinks again. Relaxes. “Bread. I haven’t baked any in months, so I hope it comes out alright.” His voice drops a little, the comments feeling more for himself than for Newt.

“Oh, I love fresh bread!” Newton watches Hermann pick up a knife and start cutting up bell peppers. “And steaks? I haven’t had a steak in a long time. I feel so spoiled, dude.” He folds his arms over his chest and watches the way Hermann moves, the precise way his hands work with the knife. He’s clearly done this a lot.

“Dude?” Hermann glances at him side-long and chuckles. 

“What, prefer cute pet-names?” Newton grins at him in return. “Babe, I can’t wait to try your cooking.” He would have leaned across the space and put a kiss on the man’s cheek if he didn’t look so nervous. Hermann is still flushed, and his hand keeps clenching when he isn’t holding a vegetable. 

“I...hope you like it.” Hermann says and sets the knife aside. He looks at Newton and hesitates there, a quiet moment passing between them where they’ve locked eyes. Hermann looks like he’s thinking too many thoughts too quickly. Then his face breaks with a smile that feels sad and he turns to the stove. He tosses some oil into a pan and turns on the burner, heating the pan. Hermann starts on the steaks next, falling deeper into silence as he rubs the meat with seasonings until the pink of them has turned pale with flavor. 

It's important that Newton stays quiet, too. He can't say how he knows this but he does. A tangible culmination of unspoken feelings fills the room, and the two soak in them, Hermann contemplating and Newton watching.

“Oh, pardon me,” Hermann says softly and nods to the sink that Newton has migrated to stand in front of.

With a playfully feeling bubbling up, Newton slides  _ just _ out of the way and flicks the water on for Hermann. He can only stay quiet for so long, and the compliment burbles up. “You’re really handsome.”

“What?” Hermann freezes with his hands under the water, staring open mouthed at Newton.

“You’re handsome,” Newton repeats and tilts his head to the side a bit. He slides in closer and runs a slow hand up Hermann’s chest, over his shoulder, to rest against his neck. Hermann doesn’t move. “Has no one told you that before?” Newt makes sure to leave distance between them, the touch only connecting at hand and neck in case Hermann needs to pull away. He really wishes the guy had given him more to work with upfront, but when the client doesn’t even know what they want, Newt has to try  _ something. _ He’s made mistakes before, learned how to backtrack and comfort.

Hermann doesn’t pull away. He manages to shut the water off and takes a breath. “Vanessa used to say so,” he says softly.

“Your wife?” Newton’s eyes flick to Hermann’s hand; he still wears the wedding band.

“Yes.” Hermann tilts his head so that he can run his jaw along Newton’s hand. “Though I don’t understand her or your attraction to me. I am nothing special.”

Newton snorts and cups Hermann’s face. “I’m sure she would argue with you about that until she was blue in the face, and I could do the same.” He rubs his thumb over Hermann’s chin and jaw then drops his hand. “Seriously, babe, that jawline is killer.”

Hermann snorts next and shakes his wet hands over the sink. He goes to the stove, the limp a little more pronounced without the aid of the cane, and tosses the vegetables in the heated pan. Then he tosses butter and a sprig of rosemary into the second pan and turns the burner on. “I didn’t ask, are you allergic to anything?” He spins around with such concern etched on his face, lips taut.

“Not that I know of,” Newton reassures. The concern is touching and twists Newton's heart in his chest.

“Oh, good.” He turns back to his pans and gives the vegetables a toss. “Would you mind a little music?” Hermann asks over his shoulder.

Newton perks up. One of the most interesting parts of his encounters with clients in their home is the little discoveries he makes about them. Music, movies, weird collections. “Not at all. Whatcha got?”

“Actually, just there,” he nods over the bar counter into a living area. “On the shelves is a record player and records. I know, I know. How hipster of me.” The words don’t sound like his. Perhaps something Vanessa teased him over. “But pick out what you like. You know how to run a record player, I hope?”

“Dude.” Newton gives him a flat look. “If you think I’m not cranking eighties rock on vinyl, you’re kidding yourself.”

“Good gracious, you’re one of  _ those," _ Hermann laughs and opens the oven, removing the dutch oven the bread is in.

Newt gives a squawk of indignation as he starts for the living room. “What does  _ that _ mean?” He continues to the records with a smile on his face. It seems like Hermann might be loosening up now, showing some personality. If that teasing is a hint, Newt can’t wait for more. 

“The kind who might actually argue that the sound of vinyl cannot be compared to anything else. I suppose you also drink iced coffees in the winter?” Hermann’s voice is dripping with teasing tones, which is oddly fitting with the slightly too-tense scowl he must wear often.

“As a matter of fact,” Newton says, puffing up a little. “I happen to love my iced coffee and the weather has nothing to do with it.” He scans the records and is impressed. There’s plenty of the classical, baroque, and romantic era shit that Newton pictures Hermann listening to while grading papers. But there’s also some more modern stuff. “Oh, shit the Sex Pistols!” Newton snags a record and clings to it adoringly.

“Ah,” Hermann’s voice is barely audible this time.

Newton looks over and hesitates. The man is looking at the record in his hands and his face is a little drawn. “I can pick something else,” Newt offers quickly. He’s not sure what brought that on, but it seems like a misstep. 

“No, it’s fine. That album is one of Vanessa’s favorites, that’s all. But if you like them, by all means, play them.”

Newton debates the record in his hand, but then he goes for something different, something that feels more like the primly dressed man cooking a romantic meal in the kitchen. “Nah, I’m feeling a different mood tonight. Just appreciating your varied collection. How about...Buxtehude?”

“Mm, haven’t listened to his work in a while.” Hermann is focused on the food once more.

He sets the record on and the sounds of the violin pour through the house. Newt makes sure it’s not too loud so they can speak together still then walks back over to the kitchen, taking the time to look Hermann over once more. There’s an elegant curve to his body, the way he leans to one side, the tensing of his shoulders and arms as he works. He moves about almost like a ballet dancer, all precise stances and smooth transitions. It’s a wonder to Newton that Hermann hasn’t had more people tell him how attractive he is.

Newt comes to stand at the counter out of the way again and watches Hermann finish things up. “Where are the plates? I can get them for you.”

Hermann turns suddenly at his voice and nearly knocks into him. He stutters an apology and slinks back. “There,” Hermann motions. “Second cabinet.” 

Newt offers a smile and pats his lower back again. The plates are easy to find, and Newt takes down two from the little stack. They have a little flower design along one side, and it feels so much like something handed down in a family that Newt can picture it. Gifts for the couple after they move in together, brought by Hermann’s mother perhaps. Newton's chest tightens at the made-up memory. He sets them down near the stove and watches Hermann plate the steaks and sauteed veggies.

“The bread might still be too warm,” Hermann muses as he looks at the loaf cooling on the counter. He shrugs out of the apron, folding it and setting it on the bar top. 

“That’s fine. We can bring it to the table and let it cool there a little longer,” Newt suggests. “You have a cutting board we can bring it on?”

Hermann nods and fetches a nice wooden one with a handle. He places the bread and a long bread knife on it while Newt picks up the plates. “This way,” Hermann says, grabbing his cane again and leading them through the other side of the kitchen and into a small dining room.

The table is set with a nice, red table cloth. There are candles in the middle and two places are set with silverware next to each other. Hermann deposits the bread to the middle of the table before pulling out a chair and offering it to Newton. 

The proffered chair is disarmingly sweet and Newt fumbles with the plates for a moment. He manages to set them down before sinking into the chair Hermann's hands are curled on. “Thanks.” He looks up at Hermann and sees a slanted smile.

Hermann grabs matches sitting by the candles and lights them. With candlelight and baroque composition playing in the background, Newton nearly feels as though he’s actually being romanced here. As Hermann sits, he’s starting to look a little nervous again. He busies his hands with unfolding a cloth napkin and setting it carefully in his lap. Newton unfolds his and decides to do the same even if it feels a little odd.

“Wine?” Hermann asks, lifting from the table a bottle that Newton hasn't noticed with everything else he is trying to take in.

“Please.” Newton knows very little of wine, but he enjoys it on occasion, and this feels like the perfect time. Candlelit dinners always need wine. How many times had Hermann treated his wife to something like this?

Hermann pours them each half a glass and sets the bottle back down. He’s hesitating again. Newton needs to make him feel comfortable, perhaps get him further into the moment.

“I’m sorry I’m a little underdressed. I should have said earlier, I have nicer clothes in my bag. Maybe I should change real quick?”

“No, no. You’re perfectly fine.” Hermann shakes a hand dismissively. “Is that, I mean, did you wear what you prefer normally?”

Newton smooths a hand over his t-shirt. “Just about. My shirts tend to have graphics on them, but I keep a few nice, plain ones for things like this. Well, not like  _ this _ because you’ve got a really romantic dinner set up and I’d normally have a button-down at least, but like, nice for a casual date sort of thing, yeah.” He realizes he’s rambling, nerves from earlier bubbling up again. He isn’t supposed to be the nervous one. He’s done this sort of thing a million times. It’s his  _ job _ for fuck’s sake. “But these are my favorite jeans.” He sticks a leg out to show them off.

Hermann chuckles and has the courtesy to look at Newton’s leg. “That’s good. I like the idea of meeting you as...you, I suppose. No facade, or at least not an obvious one.” He cuts into his steak, perhaps as a distraction because it seems like he can’t look at Newton again. There’s a curious and almost tantalizing dynamic starting to build here, a passing of nervousness from one to the other. “I just want you to be comfortable, I suppose. Relaxed.”

“Are  _ you? _ Comfortable and relaxed?” Newton cuts into his own food and takes a bite, not stifling the groan as flavor bursts over his tongue. As much as Hermann enjoyed cooking, Newt was sure his wife enjoyed eating what he made. It was really good. “Holy shit, Herms, this is fantastic!”

And now Hermann is laughing. “Herms, huh? I suppose I’m to suffer a night of ever changing nicknames with you?” His eyes are bright now, the dark brown of them catching in the candlelight and showing streaks of a lighter brown. They’re gorgeous and Newton cannot look away.

“Should I stop?” he asks, casting his voice low.

“Please don’t,” Hermann returns just as quietly. He tucks into his food again, and so does Newton.

For a few minutes, they eat in silence. Even in the quiet, a conversation is being passed between them. Newt takes a bite, squeezes his eyes shut then opens them to look into Hermann’s. He smiles, and Hermann blushes. One of Newt’s hands drifts across the tabletop and his fingers brush along the back of Hermann’s hand. And then their fingers are lightly entwined, some delicate dance neither is fully committing to just yet.

“The bread should be cooled,” Hermann announces and breaks from the dance. He cuts two large hunks and extends one to Newton. 

“Thanks.” Newton grabs it and immediately takes a bite. It’s fluffy, warm, and perfect. He hums contentedly again. “Holy fuck, Herms. Seriously, you’re going to kill me here. At first I pegged you as a professor, but are you a chef or baker or something because this is all amazing.” The record changes songs and another string of violin notes pours through the room as a quiet ambiance. 

“Ah, no, this is merely a hobby.” Hermann takes a bite himself and mulls it over. “I’m an astrophysicist, actually. I teach because it’s part of my research contract with the University, but my interest lies mostly with the research.”

Newt beams. “I knew it! You just have that vibe, like I’d walk into your class and you’d immediately scold me for something, but I wouldn’t be able to hate you because you’d know so much. And I’d be dazzled by your brilliance and try to seduce you at office hours or something.”

“Newton!” Hermann gasps as though thoroughly scandalized by this.

Newt realizes it’s the first the man has said his name tonight, and he really likes the way it sounds coming from his mouth. He needs to clamp that feeling down real quick. Usually, Newt was better at controlling his feelings. He’d lusted for some clients early on but had learned to separate work from his personal life. It was proving a struggle tonight. “Well, you could be the one to seduce me, I suppose. An offer of extra credit or private study?” Newton grins and takes a slow, teasing bite of steak. 

Hermann’s face goes red again and he clearly tracks the movements of Newton eating. “You, darling, give off the feel of trouble. I’d likely end up having you attend some form of lecture after class. To apologize for your misbehavior.”

“Oh, punishment hmm?” Newton waggles his eyebrows and is rewarded with a deep hum, almost a growl from the depths of Hermann’s chest. The way Hermann’s hand clenches on the tabletop draws Newt’s attention. His forearms are ropes of muscle, beautiful curves revealed below the rolled cuffs of his shirt. Newt can imagine those arms around him, those hands gripping him, and he stops breathing.

Hermann lifts his wine glass and takes a sip, and he looks like he’s building to something. Newt wonders if he’ll ask for sex, and decides right then he’ll say yes. He almost hopes that’s what he’ll ask for. Instead, “How did you get into your line of work?”

No one ever asks him that. No one cares enough to know, likely assuming some sad, broken background that led him to pick sex work as a career and lifestyle. He stares a moment, thinking, but it’s too long.

“That was insensitive, I shouldn't have asked,” Hermann says quickly. He drops his silverware and sits back, bringing his napkin to his lips. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s fine!” Newton assures. “It’s totally fine, I’ve just uh, never been asked before.” He smiles and takes a sip of wine himself. “Really, no big deal. I got into this work sort of by accident.”

Hermann settles in his chair again, but his hands are in his lap and he’s still sitting back from the table. Newton sits back as well and hopes that speaking will soothe Hermann’s discomfort.

“I was working on one of my PhDs and paid for a week with someone from Shatter Escort to attend a boring conference with me. He was great, a lot of fun, and we talked about being an escort. I talked about not knowing what to do with my life and how I’d probably just keep getting PhDs and he said why not apply at Shatter. I had a great personality for it, I guess, and so...I did.”

Of all of the information that Hermann can pick up and comment on, he grabs the detail Newt least expects. “One of your PhDs? In what? How many PhDs do you have?”

“Uhh, that one was my limnology degree. I have four so far, and I’m working on my fifth. I mean, one of them was honorary due to some work I did in the field and a minor discovery. But the three before that were all my own work. It was insane, getting two PhDs at the same time, but I’m crazy like that.”

“You have four PhDs and you’re getting another!” Hermann is flabbergasted, apparently. It’s a good look on him, Newton must say. His mouth hangs open slightly, hollowing his cheeks just a touch more and accentuating his cheekbones. “What on Earth are you going to do with all of those degrees?”

“I don’t know.” Newton shrugs. “I just like getting them. I like the research, the learning. It’s a weird addiction, I guess. I just like science. I have a biochemistry, limnology, and marine biology degree. The honorary one was in microbiology. Now I’m working on a chemistry degree.” Newton keeps talking because he enjoys the look of awe on Hermann’s face. They’ve stopped eating completely, and Newton feels a little bad that their meal is getting cold, but there’s a connection here. That connection is likely what Hermann needs tonight. “So. Yeah, I don’t know what to do with the degrees.”

Hermann leans on the table, enveloped in their conversation once more, bringing them physically closer along with the intellectual. “There are so many things you can do with your degrees. You could be changing the world, Newton. Why ever are you still working as, as, this?”

Normally, Newton doesn’t take offense to much. He’s been called a lot of names, a lot of derogatory things, but somehow hearing that from Hermann just grinds him wrong. “Because I  _ am _ making a difference in the world. On a smaller, more personal scale than a huge scientific breakthrough maybe, but I like the connections I make with people. I like what I can give them. Give you.”

The way Hermann jerks back makes Newton think he’s said something wrong for a moment. But then Hermann’s face loses its tension and he nods. “I see. And that’s enough?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” It’s Newton’s turn to lean on the table. This feels like something between bickering and learning. It feels important and draws him closer to Hermann. He should not be doing this. He has rules and guidelines for giving the client a good time, for helping them escape for a while and exist in a happy fantasy. This is getting too real. He should stop, but he can’t. “I get to help someone forget about some trouble for a while, get them over whatever they’re stuck on, and they come out of it better.”

“What about you, though?”

“What about me?” Newton frowns, confused. 

“You deserve to have some happiness and fulfillment, too.” Hermann leans forward again and they’re close enough that their knees brush.

Newton chuckles. This is fine, he tries to tell himself. He reaches over and covers Hermann’s hand with his. “Who says I’m not happy?” He smiles lopsidedly to prove his point.

Hermann flips his hand around and grips at Newt’s, giving it a light squeeze with his next words. “Your constant pursuit of higher degrees shows me you’re searching for something. If you were perfectly content, you wouldn’t be digging so deeply.”

Newton’s eyes dart back and forth between Hermann’s. He’s lost in those brown depths, trying to make sense of what he’s feeling all of a sudden. And Hermann, the sweet man, must see some struggle on his face. Not releasing Newt’s hand, Hermann tosses the napkin from his lap to the table and stands, tugging Newt up with him.

“Come with me to the living room?” Hermann’s voice is cast from the depths of his chest. 

Newton gives a nod, still quiet. Everything about this night is so different from his usual experience, he’s not sure what to expect next. They make their way into the living room and Hermann lets go of Newton’s hand. He goes to the shelf, pulls down another record, and changes it out. He puts his cane aside, sets the needle, and stands again.

Reaching out a hand, “Dance with me?”

It's a sudden transition, but Newt is taken by it. “Okay,” Newton says and takes the hand. Hermann pulls him close and takes the lead as the first notes of Elgar’s _Salut d’amour_ sound through the living room. 

Hermann leans a touch heavily as they begin to move slowly around the room, but his movements are as fluid as they were in the kitchen. One of Hermann’s hands is low on Newton’s back, strong and shifting pressure to move Newt about with the steps of the dance. With his own hand along Hermann’s shoulder, Newton is pressed to Hermann’s chest and the warmth they share is overwhelming. He gives into his urges and sets his head down on Hermann’s shoulder, his nose tucking into the man’s neck. They move together so well, and Newton has never been so happy for learning to dance.

Breath at his ear, Hermann says in a whisper, “I’ve always loved to dance. It’s nearly like flying when you get lost in the steps.”

And Newton understands that now, wrapped in this man’s arms. “You’re very good at it.” Newton whispers back. It’s Newt who should be giving Hermann a good time, and he feels again that he’s not doing his job well tonight. He’s taking a lot more from this than he should. So he lifts his head and leans enough to smile at Hermann. “You said earlier you weren’t sure what Vanessa and I see in you, it’s that seeing you move, feeling you move, it’s like art. You’re like a work of art with all your angles.”

Hermann’s breath catches audibly and his pale skin flushes red again. “That’s impossibly romantic of you. They must make you read a lot of poetry to recite to your clients."

“Nah, they're not that hands on with the training. But what I said is still true.” Newton tucks his head against Hermann again and sets a kiss at the pulsepoint on his neck. He feels the man shudder, and now he feels as though he’s doing his job correctly once more. He keeps his face close as they move easily together. “Where did you learn to dance?”

“My mother, at first.” Hermann says twisting them to avoid the coffee table. “My older brother never enjoyed it, and so the honor of dancing with our mother fell to me. I enjoyed it enough that I took a few classes in college.”

Newton rubs his thumb over the side of Hermann’s neck as he listens to him. Each shift of Hermann’s hand directs him, and he moves with it as though they’ve been dancing together for years. “That’s sweet.”

“What about you? You dance rather beautifully yourself,” Hermann asks.

With a soft laugh, Newton says, “I decided it would be a good skill for an escort to know, so I took classes.”

“Ah, smart choice.” Hermann spins them to a stop near the couch as the song comes to its end. He seems reluctant to let go, his hand resting against Newt’s lower back and not moving. They’re both breathing a little heavier though the dance hadn’t been all that taxing.

Newton is the one to pull away enough that their touches break. “Should I get our wine and we can drink out here?” he asks, gesturing to the couch.

Hermann smiles. “That sounds nice.” He sits a little stiffly and Newton rushes off to get the glasses and unfinished bottle.

Their plates still have some food on them, forgotten now, but it’s not much. Newton takes in the whole scene one more time, the beautifully set table and burning candles. It puts an ache in his chest, and perhaps Hermann is right. Newton might not be satisfied with what he currently has, not if something like this might be waiting for him. He shakes his thoughts and blows out the candles. Then he picks up the glasses and the bottle and returns to Hermann in the living room. 

Depositing the things on the coffee table, Newton takes a seat next to Hermann close enough that their legs press together. "Do you want to talk about her?" 

"What?" Hermann's mouth opens slightly as he breathes out. His body tenses again.

"Vanessa. Would you like to talk about her?" Newton sets his hand on Hermann's knee.

Hermann takes another audible breath and then sinks into the couch. "I’m not sure where to start. Vanessa was a wonderful person. I’m afraid I was rather quick to cast judgment on her when we first met.” 

Newton rubs his thumb over Hermann’s knee as he speaks, hoping to soothe him through his memories. Hermann, now relaxed on the couch, has leaned over so that more of their bodies are pressed against each other. Though the topic is sad, there’s a comfort here, an ease to their conversation that allows Hermann to be open. Newton listens quietly, but he keeps eyes on Hermann to show he’s listening. Sometimes that’s all a person needs.

“She was a model, and I made the assumption that she wasn’t as…” Hermann cringes. “I might have inferred that she wasn’t intelligent. And the debate that followed was one of the most intellectually rigorous conversations I’ve ever had. I fell in love immediately.”

Newton grins. He can picture that; he can picture Hermann with passion growing over each new turn in the conversation. He would love to see it first hand, if he has the chance tonight.

“I suppose I make judgments too quickly sometimes.I feel I’ve made them with you, too.” Hermann reaches a hand down and covers Newton’s. “I should not have been so surprised that someone in your line of work would have the degrees you’ve earned. It seems I never learn.”

Laughing lightly, Newton shrugs. “I don’t really give off the degree-collecting vibe, so I totally understand. But don’t let this cool guy attitude fool you; I’m a huge nerd, man.”

Hermann laughs, too. It’s a soft sound, almost more of a heavier exhale than a laugh. “I can tell now. After those degrees you mentioned.” He is still holding Newton’s hand. “Vanessa was a self-proclaimed geek, actually. She collected comic books along with her eighties albums.”

“That’s super cute. I was more of a manga fan myself. They’ve got fun monsters and stuff.” Newton shifts a little and sticks his arms out. “Got tattoos of some of ‘um even. See this one is Makila. I really liked the red and yellow coloring. It all blends into the marine pieces on my back so…” Newton clears his throat and grabs Hermann’s wine glass, handing it to him. “But uh, we weren’t talking about me.”

“I find I would like to, though.” Hermann takes the glass and brings it to his lips, sipping slowly while watching Newton over the rim of it. “You remind me of her a bit. As soon as I mentioned something of interest to her, she could talk for days about it with that same excited energy you just had.” Hermann holds his wine glass, balancing it on the knee where their hands aren’t entwined. “Tell me, how did you get that honorary degree?”

It’s Newton’s turn to blush. “You really want to hear about that? You’re paying for the next,” Newton glances around and spies clock, “two and half hours and I want to make sure you’re satisfied with your time.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure, yes. This has been perfect so far.” 

And the way Hermann is looking at him with those smile-squinting brown eyes tells Newton that he’s not lying. He really is enjoying just spending time with Newton, getting to know one another. “Alright, well, I was actually doing some field work for my bio degree. I was one of three students who actually got to go with MIT’s research professors, and I was the one who found a mutated algae strand.” 

As Newton talks about the algae, going into far too much detail he was certain, Hermann sits enraptured. They sip at their wine, refill the glasses, and eventually Newton gets Hermann talking about astrophysics. Hermann’s hand has wandered to Newton’s back, and Newt has slipped a leg under Hermann’s so that they are cuddled rather close. They have somehow gotten onto the topic of possible prokaryotes that could exist as alien life on other planets.

Newton sets down his empty glass. He knows the wine bottle is empty so abandons it in favor of trailing a hand up Hermann’s arm. “No, I disagree,” he says and is about to argue his point when Hermann also sets his glass down and turns a hard look at him. 

“How could you  _ possibly _ disagree with that?” Hermann’s hand has dipped low on Newton’s back now, and his fingertips dance just beneath the lip of his shirt to skim over his skin. It sends a shock through Newton in a way that makes his chest tight and bubbly.

Time is up. There is a twist in Newton’s gut as he has the realization the four hours are over, that they’ve spent the last two and half hours sitting on the couch debating science with each other. And Hermann’s hand has just gone beneath his shirt, and he really doesn’t want to leave. “Ah, I would  _ love _ to tell you all the ways you’re wrong about that, but um.” He clears his throat. Leaving was often awkward when the date took place at a client’s house. Tonight it seems will be especially so.

Hermann turns toward the clock and the excitement drains from his face. He sinks in a way that shows disappointment this time instead of relaxation. “Right. Time passed quicker than I had thought it would.”

When the hand is removed from Newton’s back, the spot feels unnaturally cold. It was as if more than just a touch was taken away. “Wait!” This is stupid. This is a bad idea. Newton should really just keep his mouth shut and walk away before he ruins his perfect record with Shatter Escort. “Can I ask you just one more question?”

“Sure,” Hermann answers quickly. His body leans back toward Newton like there is some force pulling him along as well, a connection they’re both feeling.

“Do you.” Newton swallows trying to get the question out. “I’m not exactly ready to leave.”

Hermann chuckles. “That’s not a question.”

“Right. I, would you--no this is stupid. I’m sorry, you’re a client and I’ve done my job. I should be going before I say something stupid. Thank you for the nice night. I really hope you enjoyed my service.” Newton is scrambling to his feet, trying to backtrack from the mess he was about to make. “The food was great, seriously. And the music was wonderful, the dance, it was all really nice and I hope I was the company you needed for all of this.” Newton is walking nearly backwards with Hermann following after him. They’re heading to the door, to Newton’s shoes and bag at the entrance and Newton can’t shut up. Hermann isn’t stopping the flow of words, either. “Seriously, dude, I hope this helped and I’m really sorry about, um, Vanessa.”

Newton is trying to stuff his feet into his boots and he’s failing miserably when suddenly Hermann is grabbing his shirt and pushing him against the door. The cane falls with a loud clatter and some of Newton’s breath is knocked from his chest. He grips at Hermann’s forearms, staring up slightly at eyes that have been devoured by the pupils. They stare at each other, breath mingling and the scent of red wine hanging between them, and it is Newton who leans in first. 

He tilts his head and leans up to catch Hermann’s lips against his own. Herman meets him hungrily, and Newton feels the soft caress of his thin lips. The kiss is warm and hard, and Newton feels his back biting into the ridges of the door, his hip against the handle. It hurts, but he can’t move now because he needs to feel the wet of Hermann’s tongue, needs to taste the wine they’ve both been drinking. He wraps an arm up over Hermann’s shoulder and parts his lips, allowing Hermann to explore further. 

Newton groans when Hermann takes his bottom lip between his teeth, and he gasps when those teeth move along his jawline. He drops his head back and thunks painfully against the glass of the door. “Shit,” he grumbles but only pulls Hermann closer.

“Are you alright, darling?” Hermann asks against his throat.

“I’m fine, don’t stop,” he whines. Something about  _ darling _ hits him low in his stomach and a heat starts to boil in his body. He needs to feel this man, all of him. Newton’s hands fight to get between them, yanking the sweater vest up so he can untuck the shirt. He pops some of the buttons as Hermann sucks at a sensitive spot along his collarbone, then rucks up the button down to reveal some of Hermann’s stomach. His fingers splay across the expanse of exposed skin, again lean but muscular.

Hermann groans and pulls back, his own hands grabbing at Newton’s shirt and tugging it up. Newton has to lift away from the door and raises his hands, reluctant to stop touching Hermann. Both of their shirts come off and flutter to the floor beside them, and then they’re on each other once more. Hands and mouths map new bodies, and Newton thinks he’s never felt another person like this before. It’s not just the elegant planes of Hermann’s body that have him so enraptured. He can’t get their debating from his mind, he can’t get over their dance together. To He can’t get Hermann’s little smile from one side of his mouth as he’s sharing something deeply intimate to leave his memory. 

“Bedroom?” Newton asks on an exhale.

“Please,” Hermann growls. 

Now, Newton takes his job seriously. He’s done a lot to be the perfect escort, including taking classes for things. He also likes to keep his body in shape. Nothing so over the top as like an action hero movie star, but enough so that he can keep up with some more vigorous nightly activities. In short, picking Hermann up and nuzzling into his throat is a rather easy task and the surprised noise Hermann makes shoots right to his groin. He waits a moment for a protest, but all Hermann does is wrap his fucking long legs about Newton’s waist and bury his nose in Newton’s hair.

“Which way?”

“Hallway, right.” Hermann directs and their mouths find each other again. 

Newton goes slowly, partially because it’s hard to walk with a tongue down your throat, and partially to make sure he doesn’t run Hermann into anything. “Door?” he murmurs.

“Should be open.”

Glancing around Hermann’s head, he sees it’s standing open and there’s just enough light from outside to illuminate a strip of pathway to the bed. Newton licks a trail along Hermann’s sharp collarbones then suckles at the spot between them and his neck. The man tastes warm and Newton can’t pull himself away even as they tumble down on the bed. He makes sure not to drop his weight on Hermann, and they manage to scramble back to the top of the bed together. 

Newton hears a belt being worked off and reaches a hand down to his own jeans, popping the button and undoing the zipper. As good as it all feels, as excited as he is, Newton comes back to himself a moment. “Uh, two things, if this is leading to sex are you more a top or a bottom? Also if this is leading to sex, condoms are where?”

Hermann blinks up at him, clearly having been lost to what they were doing. He stills though and nods. “I-I-uh, yes, I was hoping for sex.” He burns red with the next part, right up to the tips of his ears and Newton fucking adores him for it. “I would love to ‘bottom’ as you say. It’s been some time since...well.” He clears his throat. “Bedside table, there. In the drawer.”

Newton leans down and presses another kiss to Hermann’s lips before he has to pull away to fetch the condoms. “Is it cool to turn this lamp on?”

There’s a pause before an answer. “Yes,” Hermann says but there’s a tinge of nervousness there.

Flicking on the light he looks back at Hermann with a raised eyebrow. “Still good?” Hermann nods so Newt opens the drawer and finds a condom and a little bottle of lubricant, then comes back. He sets the things aside and reaches down for Hermann’s pants. “May I?”

Hermann nods. “I know I didn’t mention sex to your company. I didn’t think, well, you were a surprise really. I hadn’t thought to have such an attraction.” There’s that nervousness again.

“It’s fine, dude.”

“Ah, back to ‘dude’ then?” Hermann makes a face at him, one that squints his eyes. His hands are resting over Newton’s, stopping the progression of losing the pants.

Newton eases his hands and smiles. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be okay with ‘babe’. I’d like to keep that instead if you’re good with it.”

“It’s certainly preferable, yes.” Hermann’s hands slowly move aside but there still feels to be a reluctance.

“Hey,” Newton sits back on his heels. “You sure you’re okay?’

Hermann nods. “I’m just...it’s been a while and perhaps I’m a little,” he’s not looking at Newton now, “self-conscious.”

Ah, of course. There have been hints throughout the night, but Newton hadn’t thought they’d get to this point. He pats Hermann’s leg and then slips off the bed. “How about I start, then.” He hooks his thumbs in his waistband and waits until Hermann nods, then he slips his pants and boxers down his legs. He’s half-hard as he climbs back on the bed and hovers above Hermann. “For the record, what I see so far, I really like.”

“Me too,” Hermann says and pulls him down for a kiss.

While they kiss, Newton makes another attempt for his pants, and this time Hermann lets them come off. They kick them aside with Newton’s on the ground and take a moment to press close together, skin to skin as they share a slow, exploring kiss. And then Hermann rucks against Newton, their erections gliding together. The friction sends a bolt of pleasure up Newton’s spine and he cries out, always having been vocal in bed. He hopes Hermann doesn’t mind.

“I need you, Newton. I really want you to fuck me.” Hermann’s voice is an octave deeper in his growing lust. The voice alone drags a whine from Newton’s lips.

“Oh, babe, your voice is fucking hot. You know that?”

Hermann chuckles. “Yes.”

Ah, there’s some confidence and it really works for him. Newton’s hand gropes for the condom and lubricant and when he finds it, he sits up on his knees again between Hermann’s legs. “Sorry if this is cold,” he says as he drips a bit of lube on his fingers and brings his hand down between Hermann’s legs.

Hermann plants a foot and shifts his hips a little. “It’s fine.”

Newton slides his wet fingers at Hermann’s hole, flicking his eyes up to Hermann’s as he does so. “You’re seriously gorgeous, Herms.” The blushing that Hermann has been doing extends down his chest, apparently. Good to know. Newton grins as he slowly pushes a finger inside of Hermann, watching the man tense and arch off the bed slightly. He gasps, and darts a tongue over his bottom lip, wetting it as Newton adds another finger. Hermann is tight and as his hips give a little buck, he tightens even more. He takes his time working Hermann over, adding a little more lubricant as he does so. He can’t take his eyes off of Hermann’s body, the way his hands fist in the sheets, or how his eyes flutter when he curls his fingers  _ just so _ inside of him. Newton is so hungry for the man that the fire burning in his belly makes him think he is not going to last long once he’s inside of Hermann.

Removing his fingers slowly, Newton grabs the condom and slips it on. He reaches for the leg Hermann has planted in a ‘v’ on the bed. “Is it okay if I move you a little?”

“Yes, just be careful with my left hip.” 

“Okay. Tell me if anything hurts, hip or anything else okay?” Hermann nods. Newton lifts his leg gently and drops his own hips down. He puts the head of his cock to Hermann’s hole and slowly presses inside of him. He’s still tight and Newton has to shut his eyes to will himself to last longer than a few seconds. “Fuck, babe, you feel good.”

Hermann is panting and arching off the bed again. “Ah, Newt darling, you can go a  _ bit _ faster than that. I’m not glass.”

“Heh,” Newton pants out a laugh. “Actually, I’m trying to control myself. Sorry, I’m usually better about this but you’ve got me really wound up.”

“Oh,” Hermann says and then laughs, running his hands up Newton’s arms. “Then take your time.”

The feel of being inside of Hermann as he laughs nearly destroys Newton. He groans and sinks deeper, and Hermann’s leg wraps around him. The weight is enough to push Newton down and bottom out and he sits there, panting with his eyes rolled back in his head. “Fuck me, that’s, you’re, holy shit. Holy fuck, Hermann.”

And then Hermann’s mouth is on his neck again. Newton presses into the feeling and finally thrusts his hips back and forward again. They rock together, Newton creating a slow, steady pace as Hermann’s leg stays clinging about him. Their mouths find each other next, and they both swallow each other’s groans of pleasure. Hermann’s hands are as bad as his wandering mouth; they glide over Newton’s body, grip at his arms, his sides, his ass. Everything is building so quickly, and Newton knows he isn’t going to last long.

“Fuck, babe, I’m really close. I can pull out and--”

“No, stay.” Hermann’s hands flatten on his back and keep him from moving away. “I’m there with you.” His voice is still that rock-deep baritone and it’s just what Newt needs.

Newton’s hips buck a little harder now, and he reaches a hand down to wrap around Hermann’s erection. He tries to pump him in time with the thrusts, but they’re becoming erratic as the orgasm builds in Newton and he gets shaky with it. Hermann has let his head fall back now and he’s murmuring with little bits of groans punctuating his words when Newton squeezes his hand up Hermann’s cock.

“Darling, that’s perfect...so good...a little faster, Newt...yes, that’s it...perfect.”

Newton is just a mess of keening sounds and curses as he buries himself deeply one more time and then stutters to a straining halt. He flicks his thumb over the head of Hermann’s dick and feels the man cum, too, a hot mess hitting Newton’s stomach. Hermann cries out with his orgasm, Newton’s name it sounds like, and Newt’s hips give another involuntary thrust at the sound. 

He groans and collapses. Remembering what Hermann said about his hip, Newton carefully slides out of Hermann and rolls off to his right side. Hermann wraps an arm around him and tugs him close, so Newt puts his head on Hermann’s chest and they lie there together trying to get their breath back. 

They’re quiet as they bask in the overstimulated nerves, the muscles worked up and twitching post-orgasm. They’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, but it doesn’t matter to either as they tangle closer together now.

“I’ll pay extra, of course,” Hermann whispers.

“What? Fuck that, Herms. This was off the books, nothing to do with business.” Newton says as he lifts himself up on an elbow to look down at the man. “Seriously, I do not want to be paid for whatever,” he wiggles his fingers between them, “that fantastic thing was. This was not business for me.”

“Oh.” Hermann casts his eyes to the side, away from Newton.

He’s made a mistake. This was just business to Hermann, of course. How stupid of him. Newton had been dancing on the edge of a mistake all night, and he’s finally made it. He’s stepped into the exact situation he’s always tried so hard to avoid. “Not that, I just mean as an escort, sex isn’t usually what’s paid for. It’s the company, the conversation, the date. This is, I just mean don’t worry about it.”

“Of course. I merely meant that we’ve passed the four hours…” Hermann’s hand leaves Newton’s shoulder and he lifts himself up as well. 

In the light of the lamp, which Newton is now glad is on, he can read Hermann’s facial expressions. There’s a thought passing over it now, his lips pursing then easing into a ghost of a smile.

“Newton?” Hermann looks the most determined he’s looked all night. Perhaps this intimate state has loosened some of his nerves completely now. “When you say this isn’t business to you, what is it?”

“Uhh.”  _ It’s really great sex with a guy I have gotten a total crush for in just four hours and I’ll be pissed off to leave after this because this has been the best night of my life since like...ever, please date me? _ “What do you want it to be?”

Hermann’s face falls a bit but he recovers quickly. “A connection. You were a great help tonight. I thought it would be a horrible night, and you made it better. So thank you.”

Newton nods and wonders if he should leave now. It seems so soon, so sudden. “So, um, how did you want tonight to end? Ready for me to go now, or do you want like cuddles into the early morning type a deal?”

“I think perhaps it would be best if we parted now.” Hermann sits up fully now and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ve kept you past your time and I would not like to think I’m taking advantage of you.” He stands and grabs his boxer-briefs from the floor, pulling them on over the mess they’ve made.

Newton watches, calculating his words. He’s right. Their business is over, and it’s time for Newton to leave. He nods and gets up to collect his things as well. Slipping the condom off, he tosses it into a wastebasket he sees by a desk and pulls on his boxers. It’s a little uncomfortable having not cleaned up, but if he stays any longer, he’ll do something supremely stupid. “I had a good time, too, Hermann. Thanks.” He steps back into his jeans and finally looks at Hermann again. 

Hermann is now in a robe and smiles. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. That was part of the plan this evening. Here, I’ll walk you out. I think the rest of our things are still at the front door,” he chuckles.

“Yeah,” Newton says and forces his own laugh to match Hermann’s. They walk out to the front, a little slowly since Hermann's cane is still in the hall by the door.

“If you ever need my services again, feel free to request me specifically. Shatter’s cool about regulars.” Newton puts his shirt on, and covering up puts a new distance between them that’s needed. He feels more himself and talking business helps, too. He shoulders his bag and stuffs his feet in his boots. “Seriously, thanks again. This was really nice.”

With a tight nod, Hermann says, “You’re welcome. Have a good night, Newton.”

“You too,” Newt says and steps out onto the porch.

The door closes and that’s it. That’s the end of the nearly perfect night and Newton feels immediately hollow. He walks back to his car, starts it up, and drives away from a man he can vividly picture himself settling down with. He’s never pictured that before, and this fucking sucks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann tries dating, Newton takes on more jobs. Both of them try to forget the other and try not to compare their dates to each other.  
> This is the attempted non-con chapter, once you hit Newton's POV.

He had just wanted to forget about being sad for a little while.

Hermann’s wrinkled shirt and vest are in his hands while he's wrapped in a robe. He’s just shut the door on Newton’s retreating back and he feels suddenly empty. Tonight has been the best night he’s had since Vanessa had passed and now it is over. The problem is that Hermann had not thought this would be an especially good night. He was prepared for stilted conversation, a bit of awkwardness between himself and the escort, and wasn’t even sure the person they sent would enjoy his cooking. And that was all aside from how he thought he would handle his  _ own _ emotions tonight.

But Newton had been a wonder.

Hermann folds the vest, retrieves his cane from the floor, and walks back to his room. The bedspread is ruffled from where they’ve had sex, and Hermann’s heart siezes with the recent memories of it. He can still feel the ghostly touch of Newton all over him, inside of him. He hears the echoes of a sweet alto keening, a warm voice calling him ‘babe’, and his legs begin to shake. Tossing the clothes on top of the dresser, Hermann turns and hurries from the room. He cannot be there right now.

The kitchen is still a mess. Plates are abandoned in the dining room, wine glasses in the living room. He slowly makes his way to the living room first. The record player has stopped, so he lifts the record out and tucks it safely away in its cardboard container then back on the shelf. Newton is a good dancer, or rather, they dance really well together. Hermann loves dancing, and he’d been so much better at it before the accident, but with Newton’s arms around him tonight, it went well. Newton knows how to take some of the weight Hermann can’t put on his leg anymore, and they didn’t say a single word about it. They’d just fallen together naturally, Newton adjusting to the lightest of Hermann's touches.

Shaking the memory from his mind, Hermann picks up the wine glasses and brings them to the kitchen. He shuffles to the dining room for the plates, stacks things as well as he can and adds them to the sink with the glasses. He should retrieve the rest of the bread before it goes stale, but he really doesn’t want to walk back there again. His leg is aching after all the excitement tonight. 

So he stands at the sink to wash things, trying fervently to not think about how he needs to wash  _ himself. _ He feels sticky between his legs from the lube. He also tries, and fails, not to think about how empty the house feels all of a sudden. There is no longer someone there to press close, to run their hand over his back and ask about his life. There’s not Newton telling him how handsome he is, and he misses it already. 

Hermann should have known that would happen. He was already feeling the absence of Vanessa, and now after one date, he’s feeling the absence of another lover. One he paid for. Newton wasn’t a lover; it was business.  _ Business, Hermann Gottlieb. _ And it’s done now. He sets a few things in the drying rack, glares at the rest of the mess in the kitchen, and decides to leave it for tomorrow morning. 

He’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen now, a debate raging in his head. If Hermann goes back to his room, he’s faced with the remnants of the sex he’s had with Newton. If he crashes on the couch for the night, he’s left in the sweaty mess hidden beneath his clothes and he’ll likely hurt all over tomorrow. He’s not sure what would be worse right now, the physical or emotional anguish.

Hermann decides to brave the emotional pain and heads for the bedroom. Normally, Hermann is a very put-together person. He doesn’t like to leave a mess, each thing in his house has a place, and he’d never throw things on the ground and leave them there. Tonight, he’s not feeling himself though. He strips the comforter off of the bed and tosses it on his floor along with the memory it holds. Then he replaces the messy one with a slightly stuffy-smelling new blanket from the linen closet.

There is still the matter of cleaning himself up. The sweat has dried and so has the cum on his belly beneath his robe, and feeling it now makes him cringe. He really should have done something about that sooner. Sighing at himself, Hermann heads for the bathroom. He puts his robe in the hamper, leans his cane against the sink, and turns on the water in the shower. Hermann has installed grab bars in the shower, one of the smaller changes to his life since the accident. While serving practical purposes, they also serve as reminders of that day. He tries not to look at them as he sticks his hand under the spray to check the water temperature. 

It feels fine, so he climbs in and lets himself just soak for a few minutes. As the water washes over his body, it starts to replace the memory of Newton’s touch. Hermann focuses on letting that fall away. It has been a good night and now it’s time to say goodbye. The soap suds over his body, and Hermann replaces any scent Newton might have left with the familiar smell of his natural soap, a bit of lemongrass. The familiarity is soothing.

When Hermann climbs into bed finally, he does one other thing differently. Normally he wears a nice pair of flannel pants and a t-shirt, but tonight he crawls in still slightly damp and completely naked. The feel of the sheets rub against his bare skin. The pillow he shoves under his leg to prop it up is cool to the touch. He sinks into the tactile sensations and lets those things become the memories on his skin from tonight.

The next morning, Hermann wakes up early because the pain in his leg is too much to sleep through for more than a few hours. He takes the time to clean up the rest of the house and get himself back in order. Sitting to a cup of tea and some warmed bread with jam, Hermann feels much more like himself. He’s in a comfortable pair of slacks and a soft, grey jumper his mother had sent him for Chanukah. He has survived the night.

It might be a good idea to stay with company again during the day, and he thinks of Mako Mori. She was the one who had given him Shatter Escorts' contact. He picks up his phone and sees a text message already waiting for him. 

_ How’d it go? _

His fingers fly over the keyboard, asking to meet her for brunch to talk about it. Mako says she’s free to meet at eleven, and Hermann picks the place. It’s the same little place they always go,  _ The Olive Branch _ , a place that serves an orange blossom tea Hermann and Mako both like. Hermann passes the couple of hours he has before leaving by searching on his iPad for some science articles. If they just so happen to be scientific papers written by one Newton Geiszler toward one of his many degrees, well, there’s not much Hermann wants to say about that subject.

Hermann gets to  _ The Olive Branch _ at the same time as Mako; punctuality is a quality they both possess and admire. He waves as they approach at opposite ends of the sidewalk leading from the parking lot, and she hurries over with a broad smile on her face. He’s always liked how openly she shares her warmth with people.

“Miss Mori,” Hermann grins as they embrace.

“Good morning, Hermann. You look well.” When they pull back, Mako leaves a hand on his arm as she looks him up and down. “You are doing okay?”

Hermann nods. “I think so, yes. Though it’s good to see you after the night I had.”

Mako’s face falls a little at this, but they both know that getting seated and having tea in their hands is a necessity before Hermann will open up any further. It often takes a hot drink for Hermann to discuss any of his deeper emotions. They get to the door, and he holds it open for Mako. The hostess greets them with a smile and doesn’t even hand them a menu; she knows their order already. They’re brought to a table out on the patio and the waitress tells them she’ll be out with their tea shortly.

“So.” Mako reaches over the table and grasps at Hermann’s hand. Hermann has gotten used to and even welcomes the friendly touches, a rare privilege he grants. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“Yes. It was fine.” Hermann isn’t able to look her in the eyes. All of a sudden, he’s realized that if he talks about it, he’ll remember everything. He’ll remember the feelings of being with Newton for an entire, wonderful night. And then he’ll remember  _ not _ being with him. One night. It should not affect him so deeply. “It was more pleasant than I thought it would be. He was a gentleman, and I was able to keep my mind off more negative feelings for a night.”

Mako watches him. She watches him in her way that shows she can see beyond the surface of his words. Mako’s good at that sort of thing, and sometimes it can be rather frustrating. Before she can make a comment or ask a question he knows is coming, the waitress comes back out with a pot of tea and cups. She serves them, asks if they would still like their regular order, and retreats to pass it on to the kitchen.

“Tell me about the person.”

Hermann looks at Mako as she sips her tea. “Why?”

Mako raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re in a good mood today. I think you enjoyed your time, so I’m curious about the person.”

There’s silence for a moment as he thinks about what to tell her, or if he’ll even tell her anything at all, but the way she smiles at him so softly makes him break. “His name was Newton. He was handsome, polite, dances well, and we — ” Hermann flushes as he realizes where he was about to end his sentence. “We enjoyed ourselves.”

This is not enough to quell Mako’s interest. She takes another sip of tea. “Mhm. So, he dances?”

Hermann nods. “He knows Buxtehude. He has several PhDs, and we talked science and such for hours.” Hermann sighs and wraps his hands around his tea, trying not to let images from their time in the bedroom flood his mind. “It was a pleasant experience, but it’s done. I need to move past that.”

“Why not try dating someone for real?” Mako asks. “I wasn’t sure you’d be ready for that, but since last night went so well, it might be a good idea.”

But he’s not sure. Last night had gone well because of who Newton is. There weren’t expectations, and the man was being paid to be likeable. Hermann had gotten lucky in finding Vanessa. He is lucky Mako understands and gets along with him. Hermann had been lucky that Newton was the escort sent last night. Most people do not get along with Hermann in the long term. He’s socially awkward, very particular, and he knows his grumpy introversion is hard to deal with on a personal level.

"Hermann?" Mako's voice is politely soft and it eases him into the conversation further. "How long have we known each other?"

Hermann makes a snort of a sound. “A long time. Years.”

She nods as if she needs to confirm this fact. “And you trust me?”

“Yes,” he says slowly and narrows his eyes. “Mako, whatever you’re thinking, I’m not sure I like it. While your ideas have certainly worked in my favor so far, you know I don't like the risks you think I should take.”

Mako sips her tea before elaborating. “I have someone I think you should go on a date with.”

It is a simple statement. It isn’t something profound, but it sinks down Hermann’s chest and into his gut like a rock. He opens his mouth to retort, jaws wordlessly, and then shuts his mouth again. What is so bad about a date? Mako is right. He had had a good night with Newton, and maybe he is ready to take a chance again. He lifts his tea cup and takes a long drag from it, building up the last bit of courage he needs to say yes.

“Alright. Who is this person?” 

Mako smiles and bounces a little in her seat.

Hermann stands in front of his mirror, smoothing his hands over the button-down. There’s one of the vests he likes to wear folded on the dresser next to the mirror, and he eyes it with conflict fighting in his chest. Vanessa had liked his vests, his trousers, and his overall bad fashion. Newt had seemed to like it, what with how he dragged his eyes over Hermann constantly the other night. But Hermann knows other people find him too young to dress so 'stuffy' so he's frozen. 

If he puts the vest on, he risks the person judging him poorly. If he doesn't put the vest on, he's not really being himself, and that will lead to problems later if he and his date actually connect.

"Oh just put the damnable thing on, Hermann," he growls at himself.  _ You're seriously handsome, Herms _ , he hears in his head. No, he can't bring Newton on this date. He needs to leave those memories squarely in the past so his date has a chance.

Shoving the vest on, Hermann grabs his cane, gives himself one more look-over in the mirror, and heads out to his car. He's nervous and feels his heart hammering under his clothes as his fingers wrap around the steering wheel too tightly. He tries taking a few deep breaths, holding them for a three-count, and getting his body back under control. It nearly works.

His phone's GPS mechanically reads out directions to him as he drives to a part of the city he's not overly familiar with. New restaurants were adventures, right? This was going to be exciting and fun and… He pulls into a back parking lot and stares at the building. It looks really nice. Nicer than he feels he's dressed for, and suddenly Hermann is nervous all over again.

"Shit." He sits in the car contemplating texting Mako to call it off, to tell whomever he's meeting that he got sick and couldn't make it, when his phone pings with a text.

It's not a number he recognizes, but he opens it anyway. 

_ Hi, it's Mako's friend, Paul. I've got our table. At the hostess stand just ask for the Highmark reservation. _

Paul Highmark. Well, the fancy-sounding name sets some expectations, and Hermann has to wonder how nervous the man is, too. Hopefully just as much as he. Taking one more deep breath, Hermann climbs out of the car on the exhale.

The front doors of the restaurant are those frustratingly heavy ones clearly not made to be opened by the elderly or people with handicaps, and Hermann grits his teeth as he sets his weight into pulling it. Inside, the floors are shiny and his shoes tap on it as he makes his way to a little host station where a woman with a broad customer-service smile awaits him. He plants his cane carefully and glances at tables he can glimpse down a short hallway. He's dressed just fine, he's relieved to note.

"Good evening!" The woman's voice echoes the fake smile. "How can I help you tonight? Do you have a reservation?"

"Er, yes." Hermann freezes a moment, the name escaping him. He fumbles for his phone and swipes it open. Right. "Uh, Highmark."

The woman says nothing of his awkwardness as she scans the list. "Ah, right this way please, sir." She grabs a menu booklet and walks quickly to the little hallway on the right that leads to the main dining floor.

Hermann hurries after her and his eyes dart over the tables ahead, trying to catch sight of Paul before they reach him. As the hostess comes to a table with a traditionally handsome blond man, Hermann lets out a breath. He hesitates at the table, looking at the three open chairs and decides to take the one next to Paul as opposed to across from. He's leaning his cane on the table when Paul stands, smiling.

Paul has nice, white teeth, bright blue eyes, and a physique that reads gym. Hermann cannot stop the thought of  _ bland _ running through his head as Paul leans into his space for a hug. "Hermann! Mako has told me so much about you."

With a grimace, Hermann lets himself be taken into the hug and it's too long before he wraps an arm back and pats Paul lightly, twice, and then pulls away. "Oh, she has?" Hermann finds it difficult to think of people talking about him to anyone.

Paul's face scrunches minutely as they pull back from each other, but it's quickly smothered by a smile. "Yes, she really likes you. If she didn't have Raleigh, I'd have thought she fancied you." He laughs, and it's a dull generic sound. Flat.

Hermann forces a smile to his face but can't fake a laugh yet. "No, strictly friends, I assure you."

"Well, yeah, I figured that when she set you up with me. A guy." Paul and he both take their seats, Paul's eyes lingering on the cane as they talk. "She's a chick, so."

"I'm bisexual." The words slip out maybe a bit too hard, and Hermann grabs at the napkin on the table, busying his hands with unfolding it on his lap so he doesn't have to look at Paul for a reaction.

"Oh. Right." Paul clears his throat and Hermann finally looks up. "I've uh, never dated a bi guy."

Pressing his lips together tightly, he waits for the next part. The judgement, the disgust, the confusion. He's been met with bi-phobia from the community before and it's never pleasant. But Paul doesn't say anything further about that.

"As much as she told me, she didn't tell me what you do exactly. Just said you teach?" 

Hermann nods sharply, still surprised at the missing attitude and tries to recenter his mind. "At a university yes. Mainly, I enjoy the research part. Teaching is a requirement, though." He opens his menu and scans for a drink, thinking tonight he'll need a glass of wine or maybe something stronger.

"What, don't like the kids?" Paul snickers and he's opening his own menu. "Don't blame you there. I couldn't teach, I'll tell ya that. But research huh? So you're like, full-on nerd."

It's not said in the same revering tones that Newton used the other night. Hermann hums and shrugs, deciding on a scotch. He hesitates when he sees the menu doesn't have prices listed but decides he'd rather deal with adding to a credit card than going through this without a stiff drink. "And what do you do, Paul?"

"Finances," Paul beams. Hermann is hit with the thought that Paul reminds him an awful lot of Christian Bale in American Psycho all of a sudden. "Investments and all that. You know, your financial life is extremely important in this economy." 

Paul keeps going on about different investment opportunities as Hermann looks for a meal he can stomach. The guy only stops so they can place their order, and then keeps on going. Now Hermann feels less like he's on a date and more like he's at a business deal where he's about to sink all his money into some Ponzi scheme. Certainly this is a joke. There's no way Mako actually thought the two of them would hit it off. Paul is  _ boring _ . 

When the server sets down Hermann's scotch, he's embarrassed to say he takes a big swig. More than is appropriate for enjoying the drink. Paul stops talking at that, eyes going a bit wide.

"You're uh, not some party drinker type are you?" Paul asks, eyeing the drink and then the cane. "I'm not against drinking if it's done responsibly but I'm very adamant about safety. Mako said you were in an accident and if it was for drinking, I mean, you drove here right?"

While the sentiment might have been credible concern, Hermann finds that Paul's execution is just infuriating. He grips at his cane, glares across the table, and picks the scotch back up to take another long drink from it. "I do not have a drinking problem," Hermann says. "And a scotch or two will not impair my driving. I know my limits very well, thank you for your concern." He usually can't even touch on the accident, but before he can stop himself, he keeps going. "If she told you about the accident, didn't she tell you about my wife?"

"Wife? You're married?"

Somehow, this is getting way out of hand, but Hermann is helpless to derail it now. Bland, boring Paul has pissed him off. "Vanessa is dead." The words hurt, but he sees the awkwardness in Paul now and that makes it worth it. Hermann has forgotten how cruel he can be, how tempered Vanessa has made him. This was not Vanessa’s Hermann. But then, he would never be Vanessa’s Hermann again. "She was killed in the accident, one caused by a drunk driver. So no, I am not a party drinker, and I am just fine to drive home tonight."

Home. That's definitely where he is going after this, and not with company. Talking about Vanessa with Newton had been so peaceful, and this conversation is putting a sour taste in his mouth.

"I…" Paul looks repentant and perhaps Hermann has been too hard on the guy. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Hermann huffs and looks away, out over the rest of the restaurant. They haven't raised their voices exactly, but he is still a little concerned that they have drawn attention to themselves. No one is looking at them though.

Before either can mend anything, the server is back with their meals and now even a light, white wine linguine feels too much for Hermann. Paul immediately cuts into his steak, and it doesn't look as good as the one Hermann had cooked for Newton. Hermann twirls a forkful of noodles but doesn't lift it from the plate. The noises that Newton had made when he’d bitten into the steak had been nearly pornographic, and those sounds had been practically repeated in bed. The food on this table wouldn’t elicit that noise, and he isn’t interested in hearing them from Paul, anyway. He really needs to stop thinking about Newton, though.

"I apologize. Mako should have warned you that I'm a bit socially inept." Hermann isn't sure he's the one who should be apologizing, but he's so used to being the person to mess things up that it comes out anyway. "I thought a drink would help with my nerves, to be honest."

Paul reaches over and grabs one of Hermann's hands. "She did warn me, and I didn't believe her. But I should have, I mean you dress like you're ninety!" He chuckles and squeezes Hermann's hand. Paul's hand is cold and soft in a way that's uncomfortable. 

Hermann can't help but retract. "Yeah. These are comfortable."  _ Unlike how I feel with you. _ It's all he can think to say, and not say. When Newton had teased him, it had felt playful and like he actually appreciates Hermann for who he is. This feels like the edges of the teenage bullying he'd lived through.

"A properly tailored suit is comfortable, too." Paul talks around the food in his mouth and Hermann tries not to make a face. "Of course, not everyone can afford that, but that's why getting a financial advisor is so important." And they dive back into the feeling of Business Meeting, which is preferable to arguing. 

Newton had been such a conversationalist, and their arguing had been organic. It had been a give-and-take over things that they were both passionate about. This was a lecture. Hermann sticks his hand in his pocket, running his fingers over his phone. He has the number to Shatter, and he wonders if he could get Newton’s cell phone number. If he could just text with the guy. And then he immediately thinks that that’s ridiculous. The man had done a job and now it’s done. He could text Mako, though, and let her know she’s an idiot for setting this up.

Hermann drinks two scotches, boxes up most of his pasta, and turns down an offer for dessert. All he can think about is being home and texting Mako that she's made a big mistake. Paul offers to pay, and Hermann insists on splitting it. He doesn't want to give the impression that he's enjoyed himself here and wants a repeat of this.

Paul walks Hermann out to his car and it's stilted, like he wants to say something more. Hermann grimaces, hand on the handle of the car and wishing Paul away. He doesn't leave though. Instead, he leans in to kiss Hermann's cheek and Hermann freezes. It isn't unpleasant necessarily, but with the awkwardness of the entire night, it is out of place.

"Have a good night, Hermann. It was great meeting you."

Hermann smiles curtly. "Right. Good night." He yanks the door open and climbs in as fast as possible with the cane. 

Paul backs up and lets Hermann drive away. Hermann doesn't take a full breath until he is a block away. Instead of the longing dread he'd felt when closing the door on Newton, tonight he's just relieved to be alone again.

"I can't do this, Vanessa. What was I thinking?" He shakes his head and drives home as quickly as the speed limits will allow him. "You were the one shot I had, I think. I should just let this silliness go and focus on my research."

That night, Hermann tosses and turns, trying to remember the feel of Newton's hands on his skin. He can’t quite get the feeling back, and end up soaking under the hot spray of a shower. Hermann stays there until his fingers are pruny and he’s melted away the remnants of the bad date.

He climbs into bed and doesn’t sleep.

_ Mako, last night was awful. You really thought I would get along with Paul? _

Hermann is cooking eggs after sending the text message. He hears it buzz on the counter a few times but ignores it as he finishes making breakfast. Once he sits down at the counter with eggs, toast, and coffee, he looks at his phone.

_ What? -- What went wrong? He was excited to meet you. -- Was he rude to you? -- Hermann, please answer me or I’ll drive over to your house! _

At the last message, Hermann panics and calls immediately to make sure she isn’t driving over already. “Miss Mori! Please tell me you are  _ not _ in your car on your way to my house.”

“Would you like the truth or a lie?”

Hermann sighs heavily and wraps a hand around his coffee mug. “I am fine, I assure you. Go home.”

“Too late. I’m already on the highway. Save me some coffee.” Mako’s voice is chipper and it already settles Hermann’s frayed nerves.

As put upon as he’s making himself sound, he doesn’t actually mind the idea of seeing Mako again. It is the weekend, and he should grade some papers, but having her over will let him put that work off for a time. And he probably could use her advice.

“Fine. There’s a cup waiting for you.” He doesn’t bother with goodbye, just hangs up and sets to finishing his breakfast before she gets here. He puts the dishes in the sink, lightly rinsing them before he goes to shower and dress.

When Mako comes over, she uses the key stashed in the flowerbed, one of those hideaways that look like a rock. She walks in while Hermann is still in his room and he calls out to her. “I’ll be out shortly. Coffee’s on the counter!” He hurries to finish getting ready, and comes into the kitchen rubbing a towel through his hair. “Oh good, you’re all settled.” 

Mako is perched on the counter with a mug in her hands. She smiles widely at Hermann, and it’s all the compelling he needs to walk over to her. He slides up as she sets the coffee aside, and he slips his arms around her, setting his head against her shoulder. 

“What’s the matter, Hermann?” Mako rubs his back with her hands, engulfing him right back in the hug. “Tell me what went wrong.”

“Is this Paul person  _ actually _ a friend of yours?” Hermann pulls back and putters around, keeping his hands busy as they talk. “He was extremely self-involved. It was like he was trying to get me to buy life insurance.”

At this, Mako laughs and takes up her coffee again. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! I know him from work and mutual friends. He seemed nice and we talked a bit about books, I just thought…” She laughs again and shakes her head. “He really talked about work the entire time?”

Hermann gives her a flat look. “If we had talked about work, that would be one thing. He was adamant I needed an insurance advisor.” The stove doesn’t actually need scrubbing, but it helps him think. “And then he accused me of being a drunk.”

“What!”

Before Mako can say more, Hermann adds, “And you didn’t tell him about my wife?”

“I wasn’t sure that was my place,” she says with a blush. “I’m really sorry Hermann. Let me try again. This lady, Annalise, is definitely a friend. She plays piano and--”

“No, I’m sorry. I can’t.” Hermann shakes his head and throws the sponge in the sink. “I don’t think I’m meant to have anyone after Vanessa. ANd I don’t want a repeat of last night, thank you.”

The two of them relax around his house for a while, and then head out to a market. Mako insists getting some fresh air will help, and Hermann isn’t ready to turn down a nice walk while the weather is still good. By the end of the day, he’s mostly forgotten about his bad date, and he’s able to get a full night’s rest finally.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It has been a week and Newton cannot stop thinking about Hermann. The man had been perfect, the type of person he could see himself settling in with every night and debating science with ‘til the early hours of the morning. Newton would cook Hermann breakfast before he had to leave to go teach. He could change his profile with Shatter to exclude anything sexual. He’d prance around with the boring, less handsome people and come back to his perfect Hermann Gottlieb. Except that’s not how life works. You don’t date clients, clients don’t want to date you especially if you keep working as an escort. You don’t fall in love on the job. Newton has always been very careful about that.

Granted, Newton had never gone on a date with Hermann before. No one had been like Hermann. And now he is doomed to a life alone because how in the hell is he supposed to find another Hermann? He isn’t.

Deciding that the best thing to do is to get back on the job and drown himself in dates, Newt checks in with his supervisor, Tendo Choi. He gets something lined up that night, and gets himself ready. It is a fancy dress party of some kind, and he is there as arm-candy. Tendo couldn’t tell him if there is to be any sort of tangled follow-up, but Newton is ready either way. It would be a good idea to try and get the lingering feel of Hermann off of his skin, anyway.

Newton drives to the address he was given and has to stop at a wrought iron gate with a guardhouse. His jaw drops slightly and now he hopes the whole black suit, shirt, and tie thing is good enough. It's not Armani, but it isn't cheap either. He gulps as a security guard steps up to his window and it takes the man motioning to lower the window for Newt to realize he needs to do that.

"Name and ID, please." The man holds out a hand and he has frickin white gloves on. 

Newt fumbles in his glovebox and pulls out a driver's license, the Shatter Escort ID, and chokes over his own name. "Newt, uh Newton Geiszler."

The man looks at him a moment before taking the identification. "Hmm. Mr. Antoni is waiting for you. Pull up to the stairs but don't block the Jaguar in." 

Newton takes his things back, nods dumbly, and drives up like told. He is  _ very _ careful parking near the other expensive-looking cars and is extra careful to leave the cherry red Jaguar unblocked. Something feels off in Newton's stomach as he cuts the engine and steps out. He stares at the red car a moment and then physically shakes himself and makes his way up the stairs to the front door.

He knocks and can't help but remember the slightly unkempt flower bushes outside of Hermann's place. Here, the lawn is short and sterile. A man in a butler's uniform answers the door and once inside, Newt sees that everything here is more like a museum than a house. Cold and impersonal.

"Right this way, sir. Mr. Antoni is just finishing up." The butler leads Newt through the large house, mansion really, and he can’t help but gawk at everything. 

The walls were full of large, flashy art pieces that likely cost more than Newt’s entire apartment and car combined. The floors are marble or at least look like marble. He is able to glance into a living room and it has a large oriental rug beneath sleek leather furniture. A giant flatscreen is pressed to the wall playing a channel with stocks and news. They come to a set of double doors and the butler knocks.

Both of the doors swing open and a tall man with broad shoulders stands before them. He has a face that’s stern in a harsh way which lacks the attractiveness Hermann’s holds. Newt feels a shiver run down his spine as he looks in this man’s eyes and suddenly he’s not so open to the idea of extending the services to the sexual. Before things go south, though, Newt remembers to smile and holds out a hand.

“Mr. Antoni? I’m Newton.” 

The man smiles but it doesn’t reach his gray eyes. “A pleasure, Newton.” He grips Newt’s hand and completely engulfs it in a hard grasp that promises more of the same coldness. He rakes his eyes up and down Newton’s body and makes a small  _ tsk _ noise. “Let’s see about that outfit before we leave, hmm?”

“What?” Newton retracts his hand and looks down at himself. He thinks he looks pretty frickin good, thanks much. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

Mr. Antoni’s lip curls in a sneer. “It’s rather cheap, isn’t it?”

Newton’s face heats at the scrutiny and he’s too shocked to resist when Mr. Antoni pulls him inside the room. He walks along with the guy toward a large walk-in closet full of clothes that Newt could never afford. “I, uh, I don’t think I’ll fit in your--I mean, we’re definitely not the same size.” Mr. Antoni is tall and trim; Newt is shorter, stockier.

This doesn’t stop Mr. Antoni who just chuckles and shuffles Newt to a section of the closet that has some things clearly set aside. “I have your size, I’m sure.” His long fingers ruffle through the rack of shirts, pauses so he can glance at Newt a couple of times, and then he seems to find something that he agrees with. He pulls down a silken gray shirt. “Take those off,” Mr. Antoni says nodding at Newt’s jacket and shirt.

Newt feels odd as he slides the jacket from his shoulders, Mr. Antoni watching his movements. It’s nothing like the way Hermann’s eyes had traveled over his body. There’s a darker feel to this, judging. Newt stumbles a little at the tie and buttons, but reminds himself that this is what he’s being paid for. It’s a job, and he’s going to get to wear some pretty new clothes. The company he holds is temporary and unimportant; he just needs to entertain this man for a few hours at a party and then he’s free to go.

With his shirt off, Newt feels more exposed than he ever did with Hermann. And damn it, he needs to stop thinking about Hermann, too!

Mr. Antoni’s eyes rove over his body again. “Hmm. Interesting artwork,” he says in a tone that says he thinks it’s anything  _ but _ interesting. “Mistakes of a playful youth?”

Newt frowns and looks down at his arms, running his fingers over the tattooing of Makila. “I wouldn’t call them mistakes,” he says softly. 

“How unfortunate, but we’ll cover it up shortly.” Mr. Antoni lifts the gray button-up for Newt to slide his arms into. The action pulls Newton nearly flush against the other man and he feels the heat pooling from. He imagines touching him would burn. Those large hands smooth down Newton’s arms and then a tie is being placed around his neck. “I expect you to stay by my side tonight, and to remain at my table when I have to make a speech. You are  _ my _ company,  _ my _ entertainment for the night and I’ll not have you wander off.”

“Of course not,” Newt says in a voice that’s still too small. His hand flexes toward his pocket with the urge to message Tendo, to double check that this is a safe client. Nothing unusual had been in the file, but Newton cannot shake the bad feelings in his gut. “I’m yours for the night.”

“Good.” Mr. Antoni pats at the side of Newt’s neck before reaching around to knot his tie.

Newt holds still and his defense mechanism of talking kicks in. “What do you want me to call you? I’ve only heard Mr. Antoni so far.”

“That, or ‘sir’ is acceptable.” 

One of those. Newt nods and finds himself catching eyes with Mr. Antoni in the mirror in the closet. 

As they look at one another, Mr. Antoni smiles darkly at him. “Did you get the answer you wanted?”

Newt swallows knowing that this is a moment on a knife’s edge. “Yes sir.”

The smile stays, but the hands slip away from Newt’s neck and he feels like he can breathe a little easier. “Good. Let us go.” He holds out the jacket to Newt and then strides out clearly expecting Newton to follow after him.

Newton has done a lot of questionable things in his time. He’s done a lot of risky and risque things on the job since joining Shatter, and often he’s even enjoyed those things. If he hasn’t enjoyed them, he hasn’t necessarily hated them. He’s had awful things grunted in his ear as he’s being fucked, he’s been tied up, pushed around, and all around degraded. What he’s doing tonight should not be worse than any of that, and yet he feels worse tonight than he’s ever felt on the job or outside of it.

Mr. Antoni has a hand on his lower back burning a handprint into his skin, it feels like, even through the fabric of the clothes. He’s kept physical contact on Newton nearly the entire time, and each shift of the hand feels like he’s leaving a new mark on Newt’s body, sitting there for people to see later. What would Hermann think if he saw the handprints?

_ Stop it _ .

Hermann was a client and hadn’t called back. And he wouldn’t because he’d gotten what he’d needed and then Newton had pushed limits that he never should have. No, Hermann doesn’t matter anymore and Newt has a job to do.

Mr. Antoni pushes a champagne flute into one of Newton’s hands just as another man approaches. Newton takes the glass and takes a sip as he watches their company grow.

“Evening, Mr. Antoni,” the man says and then eyes Newt. “New beau? That was quick.”

Mr. Antoni snickers. “He’s just an escort.”

They’re both staring at Newt now, and he feels like he’s under the gaze of dangerous predators; a deer being stalked by the wolves. He forces a smile and reaches out his free hand in greeting. “Newton,” he offers the other man.

Both of the men laugh, a dark sound. “Cute,” the guy says but doesn’t take his hand.

Newt drops his hands and clenches it at his side. He can hardly breathe.

“There’s something so much sweeter about it all when you pay them, don’t you think, Cal?” Mr. Antoni asks, tugging Newt closer to his side. “The way they squirm and try not to misstep so they actually  _ make _ the money. It takes so much,” he pauses, sets his drink down on the table next to them, and puts the tips of his fingers under Newt’s chin to force his face up. “So much before they utter ‘no’ when you’re paying them for it all.”

And now Newton is sure. He needs to extract himself from this as soon as he can. He tries to stay calm, to play the game smartly. “It’s your money,” he says. “You’re not paying me to say no, are you, sir?”

Both men laugh again. “I am not. And what a good whore, remembering how to properly address me.” Mr. Antoni’s fingers are still pressed hard on either side of Newton’s chin. He dips down and presses his lips to Newt’s in a hard kiss that’s more teeth and pain than a kiss. It solidifies the fact that Newton is in danger. His whole body feels revulsion at the kiss.

When Mr. Antoni lets him go, Newton smiles again, and plays into the role he thinks the man wants him to play. He drops his chin and looks up at him through his lashes, letting out a little gasp. All the while, he’s thinking of ways to get out. But his instructions are to stay at the man’s side. Mr. Antoni isn’t going to allow him to wander. Except during the speech. He can feign going to the bathroom then slip away and get Tendo on the phone, get a ride home. This is why he  _ never _ goes back to his place with a client. Safety.

“Oh, he’s sweet. You paying him enough to share?” Cal asks.

Mr. Antoni laughs. “Probably not, but I can.”

Newton takes in a sharp breath and watches as they both seem to like his reaction. He tries not to step away when Cal reaches a hand out and runs his fingers down his cheek. Cal grabs the champagne glass in Newton’s hand and brings it to Newton’s mouth, tipping it for him to drink from. 

“You look tense, boy. Loosen up a little.”

Mr. Antoni laughs, his hand back on Newton. His fingertips push into the flesh at his sides and Newton is sure he’ll leave a mark for real. “Come, let’s get a seat.”

The three of them gather around a table without others already sitting at it, and Mr. Antoni makes sure to pull Newt’s chair close to him. Newton gets lost in his thoughts as Mr. Antoni and Cal talk about business. He catches little things, realizes they’re in some firm together that overtakes other, dying businesses. It’s predatory, and he’s sure the others in the room are as twisted as these two. The monsters on his skin have nothing on these types; humans are some of the scariest beasts Newton can think of. He just needs to keep his thoughts on escape, one staying safe until he can get help.

When Mr. Antoni is introduced and called to the stage, Newt knows this is his shot. He glances at Cal. “Where’s the bathroom?” Newton keeps his voice at a whisper.

Cal looks over and raises an eyebrow, a grin on his lips. “I can show you.”

“I can find it myself.” When Cal frowns and his eyes take on a dark look that makes Newt’s heart freeze, he rushes to save himself. “I don’t think Mr. Antoni would appreciate seconds on something he’s paying for.”

Cal glances at the stage and some of the fire slips from his eyes. Clearly Mr. Antoni is the leader here. “Right. It’s there, down that hall to the left.”

Newton fights every step to make sure he doesn’t start running. He needs to keep calm, controlled, and not draw attention to himself. He forces himself to breath with each step and makes it to the bathroom. It’s in a hallway with an emergency exit, and Newt thanks the universe for that small mercy. He finds he actually has to pee first, and ducks inside, already pulling out his phone to text Tendo.

_ Red.  _ They work with a color system, and red is the emergency. The “I’m in danger” color which is taken with utmost concern.

_ 1123 NE Washington Ave. The Blue Marlin. Leaving client inside, going around the block. Need a pickup for my car at 456 North Hampton Rd. _

As he’s washing his hands, the door opens and he curses himself. He should have just left. Cal and Mr. Antoni walk in and eye him with lecherous grins.

“I heard you were a loyal little whore and protected my goods,” Mr. Antoni says as he walks over with long strides and an outstretching hand. “But I’m here now, so you’ll be servicing us both, like the slut I know you’re paid to be.”

Newton ducks away from the hand and smashes his hip into the sink. "That's not part of the services discussed," he says as his fingers curl over the porcelain. It comes out stronger than he feels, and anger passes over Mr. Antoni's face. "I don't think this is going to work. I'll have Shatter refund you." Newton tries to dart past them and his arm is grabbed. 

Mr. Antoni tightens his grip and pulls Newton back with a snarl on his lips. "Don't you fucking walk away from me, you whore. I paid for your sweet ass, and I'll have it."

Newton yelps and yanks his arm back as hard as he can. "Get off me, man. I'm not joking."

He doesn't let go and Cal is circling behind Newt.  _ I've never been raped before, _ he thinks in such a calm manner that Newton surprises himself. He should feel panic, overwhelming fear, shouldn't he? This is going to hurt and he should be afraid. Instead, a drop of cold settles in his stomach and he tenses as Mr. Antoni leans in, pulling him closer. He’s going to be raped in this bathroom before anyone can save him. 

Hands close on the back of Newton's shoulders, and he instinct kicks in. They’re going to have to fight for anything they’re going to get.

Newton drives his knee upwards into Mr. Antoni's crotch. Well, there goes his pay for the evening. Mr. Antoni cries out and the hands on Newt's shoulders spin him around. A hard, ringing feeling buzzes in Newt's head all of a sudden. His vision blackens a touch, and he throws a fist as a reaction.

Now his knuckles hurt, but he knows somehow that he needs to keep moving. So he does. He makes sure not to stop. Newt feels arms wrap around him and he kicks out as Mr. Antoni retakes his feet. The man dodges the kicks, and he manages to slap Newton across the face. That throws things off balance, and Newton kicks again then throws his head back and feels a sickening crunch against the back of his skull. The arms release him.

Newton throws himself forward, pushes past Mr. Antoni and slams into the bathroom door. It swings out and he nearly trips over himself as he runs toward the emergency exit. His hand scrapes along the wall to catch himself and he keeps going. The alarm blares as soon as he pushes against the security bar, but he doesn't care. Newt just wants to get away. His feet slam into the pavement of the back parking lot, and a brief flit of a thought runs through his mind. He's still in Mr. Antoni's clothes.

He runs. He runs as fast and far as he can.

Newton doesn't stop until he's wheezing with a cramp in his side, heaving in gulps of air as he's bent over in an alleyway. Blood is pounding in his ears, but he is away. He is safe. And he starts laughing. It's a high, hysterical noise that he can't help even as he cannot breathe any longer. His whole body shakes with the laughter, knees quaking in a struggle to keep him upright. Newt's face is wet with tears and he finally slides down the wall to the dirty ground.

There's a sound he can't figure out for a while, too focused on breathing to come to any of his senses. But when the laughter has died and his body is only giving slow, rolling quakes of panic, he realizes his phone is ringing. 

Newton fumbles it out of his pocket and sees Tendo's name lighting up across the screen. "Yeah," he answers.

"Where the hell are you, brother? You sent that SOS text and my driver can't find you."

"Fuck, I-I had to run. I'm sorry, Mr. Choi, I fucked up and I had to run and I don't know where I am now. I completely panicked."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Mr. Choi? Alright take a few breaths and then we'll work this out." He can hear Tendo doing something on the other end of the phone but can't make out what. "Clearly you're not okay if you're calling me that. Can you do me a favor, Newt? Can you get up and walk to a street corner, read me the signs?"

"Signs?" Newton's brain is fog and he's not sure what signs Tendo means. But he struggles to his feet and walks down the alley back toward the road.

"Yeah, the street signs."

Oh. Newton nods and as he sees the street, sees a car drive by, he freezes. What if they're looking for him? What if he goes out there and Mr. Antoni and Cal are waiting for him? "I can't…"

"Can't what, buddy?" Tendo's voice is soft. "Talk to me."

"What if they see me?"

"They?" There's a bite of anger in his voice now. "Who's they?"

"Mr. Antoni and Cal. They tried to, I almost," Newt says but doesn't finish. 

Tendo hushes him and says, "It's going to be alright, Newton. Just walk to a corner, and my guys will be there for you real soon. I promise. Talk to me if you need to, tell me about something, anything."

Newton can do that. He can talk about things. He walks forward again, gripping the phone and clinging to Tendo's request like a lifeline as he tries to stop drowning. "Did you know that some planets’ um, gas disks, I don’t remember exactly but gas disks,” he says as he walks, remembering his conversation with Hermann. “They like, repair a planet’s atmosphere.” He rambles as he steps from the alleyway, glancing both ways. He doesn’t see either of the men. Turning the way he thinks takes him further from that restaurant, Newt keeps talking about atmospheres on other planets, sure he’s getting a lot of the details wrong. It doesn’t matter though because he’s not panicking so much anymore. His thoughts are on Hermann now, on the man’s fascination with space, and the celestial, and just life in general. 

“You at a sign yet, Newt my man?” Tendo’s question breaks through the rambling and Newton stops in his tracks.

He went a few streets down, but he’s at a sign now. “Uh, yeah. Right, yeah.” He looks up at the green and white things and reads the crossroads. “Who’s picking me up?”

“The Kaidonovskys,” Tendo says. “Sacha insisted. I’m texting her your location now. You still good?”

“Don’t hang up!” Newton nearly shouts, gripping tightly to his phone.

“Wasn’t going to. Just checking on ya.”

“I’m good. It’s good.” Newton’s eyes dart up and down the roads, his body tense between staying put and running away. He knows the Kaidonovsky car. Well, SUV. A big, clunky silver thing that’s hard to miss. Every time he sees headlights, he hopes it’s them. As the minutes tick by, his panic starts to settle in again.

“Where’d you learn all that astro-shit?” Tendo knows. He can tell, Newt thinks, and he’s getting him to talk again.

Newt clears his throat. He still feels guilty about things with Hermann, and he’s afraid that someone will find out how he’s overstepped. “Uh, that one client, Hermann Gottlieb. He was an astrophysicist. We talked for hours about science and stuff.”

“Oh, did you?” Tendo is smiling; it’s in his voice. “That must have been a good night then if you got to just geek out with a fellow nerd.”

“It was,” Newt says softly. “They’re here!” He sees the SUV turn a corner and head for him. He lifts his hand and waves them down.

“Good. I’m going to hang up now, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks Tendo.”

“Any time, brother.”

Aleksis is driving, and Sacha jumps out of the car before it even stops rolling. She’s taller than Newton, and her arms engulf him. Newton lets her take him in the embrace, collapsing into her as his fear finally vanishes more completely. No one fucks with the Kaidonovskys.

“Come, in the back.” Sacha ushers him to the back of the SUV and they climb in together. Aleksis doesn’t idle long; he’s pulling from the curb before they’re buckled in.

“Nearly fought some peacock,” Aleksis mutters. “Thought he had you somewhere.”

Newton snorts. “Nah, I got out. You almost fought him?”

“Went in restaurant, you weren’t there, and he was asshole,” Sacha says matter-of-factly. “Are you okay, Newt?” She’s grabbing at his chin, turning his face this way and that to get a look at him. “He hit you?”

“I can turn around so we can kill him,” Aleksis says. 

Newton can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but panic must flood his face because Sacha shushes him. “No, no. We go back alone, without you, if we go back.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think,” Newton mutters. He’s tired, now. As the adrenaline drops and the weight of anxiety settles on his shoulders, Newton is tired. 

Sacha drops her arms over his shoulders and tugs him close to her. “We’ll take you home, and we’re staying the night. No arguing. Breakfast in the morning, yes?”

Newton’s known the Kaidonovskys for three years now. He knows a lost battle with them when he sees one, so he just nods and tips his head onto Sacha’s shoulder. “Alright, fine.” He’s asleep before they make it home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newton and Hermann just need practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter with suicidal thoughts/discussion, so TW.

Hermann goes on another date. He doesn’t know exactly why he lets Mako try again for him, but he does. The woman is somehow worse than Paul. Sure, the conversation has been better, good even, but she keeps darting her eyes to his cane the whole night. When he walks her to her car, she goes exaggeratingly slowly. And then she shoots everything down with a sentence.

“I’m a really active person, you know? Snowboarding, surfing, hiking, and mountain climbing. I’m really looking for someone who can keep up with that lifestyle. You’re great emotionally and conversationally but that’s not going to be enough for me, I’m sorry.”

And that was that. Now Hermann is certain that he doesn’t want to date, that Vanessa has been it, and that he needs to forget about Newton. But he’s also feeling a sort of melancholy about himself. 

He heads home, the feeling growing like a storm inside of himself. He parks, walks inside barely seeing his world as self-doubt clouds his brain.

Inside his bathroom, he fills the tub with hot water and sudsy soap, dropping his clothes into the hamper. Facing the mirror, he looks over his body. The lean muscle he's had from his early twenties is still there, though lesser in his legs now. He's thin, long-limbed, and not at all the athletic shape that more active lifestyles demanded. Still, he has a certain beauty about his shape, doesn't he? Isn't odd beauty enough?

Hermann climbs into the bathtub, his legs disappearing under the suds. Sinking low in the bathtub, Hermann closes his eyes and lets the hot, soapy water wash over him, over his head. He’s holding his breath, counting, and he pushes himself to stay under. His chest is starting to burn and his mouth wants to open. When pinpricks of light burst against his eyelids, Hermann emerges and gasps in a lungful of air. It actually hurts a little, but it’s nothing to the emotional turmoil twisting his guts to nausea. Is he less of a person now, with his leg? If he can’t do things he used to do or do new things with people, he’s missing out a lot. His life is irreversibly changed and he’s not sure how to handle that anymore. 

His initial reaction when the accident had happened was anger, but he’d worked through that with a therapist early on. He’d been warned about backsliding, but this feels different. You can’t backslide into the truth, and he’s starting to realize that he’s worth less now than before. Now he’s not just a cranky, particular jackass, he’s also broken. Useless.

Can’t keep up.

Not enough.

The words circle through his head as he stares at the mobility bars attached to his bathtub. He’s crying, he realizes, but doesn’t make a move to wipe his tears away or to stop himself from crying. No point. He can just sit here and wallow. No one else is going to stop this from happening, and no one should have to deal with it anyway. Maybe if he just… His eyes flick to his medicine cabinet. There are razorblades there, different medicines with careful dosages. There is an escape in that cabinet if he really wants it.

Hermann shuts his eyes tightly and grips at the edges of his bathtub. He needs to talk to Doctor Hanson again. Immediately.

After the water turns icy, Hermann manages to pull himself from its hold and get into warm pajamas. Once he’s wrapped up in his blankets on his bed, he texts Doctor Hanson and sets up a time to meet tomorrow, his therapist clearly sensing an emergency to find a time so soon. Hermann is thankful for that.

Then, he tries to sleep. It’s another restless night, though.

Hercules Hanson has a nice, private office. The building is nondescript and inside is as professional as the man himself. It's a neat, clean space that Hermann has always appreciated. Hermann sits on a straight-backed chair and tries to keep from fidgeting too much. He eyes the coffee station but thinks better of it; if he's already anxious, caffeine will only make it worse, he thinks.

When the office door opens and the previous patient walks out, Hermann feels himself start to relax. Doctor Hanson has a calming presence that makes him easy to talk to, and Hermann really needs to talk to someone. He fights the urge to stand up immediately, letting the woman and Dr. Hanson have a few last moments. He turns his eyes down to his feet, seeing a scuff on the edge of his dress shoes. Hermann reaches down to rub at it with his thumb but it stays scuffed. He’ll need to shine them properly once he’s home. 

“Dr. Gottlieb?” Dr. Hanson had taken to the peculiarities of Hermann very easily and has been addressing him professionally since the beginning. It helps, it creates a familiarity that Hermann clings to. 

Hermann looks up and doesn’t quite smile, but relaxes at least. He stands and follows Dr. Hanson into the office. “Thank you for finding a time outside of our regular schedule.”

“Of course,” Dr. Hanson says as he shuts the door behind them both and extends a hand toward the patient seating options. A couch, two arm chairs, and a stiff-backed chair that Hermann prefers. “You sounded like you were not in a good place, and since it’s so close to your anniversary, I was naturally concerned.”

“Naturally,” Hermann reiterates. He hesitates now as he looks at the seating options, tempted to take the couch or armchair this time, feeling a need for soft comfort. He continues on to the stiff-backed chair instead. He plants the cane between his legs, leaning both hands on the head of it. “The day itself went well enough, but some things that have happened after…”

Dr. Hanson sits at his chair and lifts an eyebrow. “Oh?” His eyes are roaming over Hermann, scrutinizing.

Hermann’s felt too much of that lately and squirms under it now. Typically, he doesn’t mind when Dr. Hanson is looking him over because it means he’s looking for some hurt or confusion to untangle, but now all Hermann can think about is being judged for his inadequacies. Dr. Hanson must see  _ something _ there because he sits back and looks down.

“Did you call the escort service?” he asks, clicking his pen and balancing a notebook on his knee.

“Yes. That’s what went well, and since it did, I let Miss Mori set up a couple dates for me.” Hermann clears his throat. “Those are what went wrong.”

Dr. Hanson nods. “Understandable. Putting yourself back out there to meet people is always a big and difficult step. It’s one that took me a long time to accomplish after my wife’s passing.”

“But the date with Newton had gone so well.”

“Newton is the escort?”

Hermann nods. He doesn’t want to talk about Newton again. He’s been trying to forget him for weeks now.

“Well,” Dr. Hanson says, scribbling something down in the notebook. “Having a date with Newton was likely easier because there weren’t expectations beyond one night. He was paid to be your company, and there wasn’t pressure to like each other beyond a few hours. You weren’t working toward seeing him again.”

And that makes sense. Hermann needed one night handled, and that’s what he’d gotten. He wasn’t worried about Newton being the person he’d try to date and form a relationship with. There wasn’t a need to connect in the same way he tried with the other two. “So, I’m not ready to date again?”

“That’s not where I was going with this, no,” Dr. Hanson smiles. “It’s been three years since Vanessa passed, and it was years before that since you had to date. Vanessa’s the last person you had that experience with, before these last two bad dates.” Dr. Hanson leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he lets the notebook flop in his hands. “You’re out of practice. Maybe you just need to practice a little.”

Hermann blinks. And he blinks again before frowning and jutting his jaw to one side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if your date with the escort went well, perhaps you should practice with an escort again.” Dr. Hanson spreads his hands in a thoughtful gesture. “But I think there’s something more bothering you.”

“Yes.” Hermann looks away, finding it hard to look at Dr. Hanson in the eyes while the self-hate swarms his mind once more. “Even if I practice, I’m not sure that will change anything. It’s not about the people and my expectations of them.”  _ It’s me. I’m the problem, the thing they’d be settling for. _

Dr. Hanson stays quiet while he waits for Hermann to find his words. It’s a dynamic they’ve had since the beginning because the longer there is silence, the more Hermann feels he’s supposed to fill it with explanation. He knows it’s a common tactic any time you want someone to speak, but he’s helpless to resist it anyway. But this time, it’s harder. How do you tell someone you want to kill yourself? Or, wanted. Hermann doesn’t feel the urge so strongly anymore.

“It’s more like a lingering feeling, just at the outside edges of my thoughts,” he finds himself saying out loud. The floodgates have opened. “I didn’t try anything, but the thought was there. Is there, I suppose. I’ve never felt this useless before, and there’s an escape waiting if I ever need it.”

For a long, quiet moment, Dr. Hanson just looks at him. He’s studying something in Hermann’s face, and Hermann doesn’t know if he should hide something or let Hanson discover whatever it is he thinks he needs to know. Hasn’t Hermann been straightforward enough? His problems this time are easy. Obvious.

“Hermann, if you’re having suicidal thoughts, I think we need to have a deeper talk.”

“You’re not going to call some hospital or something are you?” Hermann asks, suddenly worried about the tone that Dr. Hanson is using. He stiffens in his seat, ready to get up and leave if he must. “I’m not going to spend my time in a hospital; I’ll want to kill myself then for sure.”

Dr. Hanson holds his hands up and shakes his head, a sense of urgency about him as he tries, obviously, to reassure Hermann. "No, that’s not what I’m suggesting." Whether it’s just to calm him enough to get him to agree to going or he’s being sincere in not sending Hermann anywhere, it doesn’t matter. Hermann needs to talk to him, so he takes a breath and relaxes a little. “At this point in our relationship, I think we’re both logical enough to know when that will be necessary, and that’s not right now. You immediately called, and you said you didn’t actually attempt it. So, no, I think we can work through this together, hmm?”

Slowly, Hermann sits back and nods. “Yes, I think so.”

“How about we start with, what exactly made you think of having a way out of everything?” Dr. Hanson keeps leaned forward, closer to Hermann’s space and creates a sense of connection where Hermann feels attached, feels like he  _ needs _ to share now. There’s such concern in Dr. Hanson’s eyes and it’s all for Hermann.

“Sitting in the bathtub, seeing my legs wasting away, the bars on the tub. That damned woman’s words in my head.” He shakes his head now, almost feeling those words rattling around again. “I can’t keep up anymore. I’m...things are different and I don’t know how to be me anymore.”

Dr. Hanson tilts his head to one side. “What has changed about  _ you _ specifically that you can’t be the same person?”

“My mobility. I can’t snowboard or climb mountains or keep up.”

There’s a look of disbelief, a twist of Dr. Hanson’s lips in a smile. “Did you plan on climbing a mountain, Dr. Gottlieb?”

“Well…” Hermann looks at his feet. “No.”

“Does having a cane hinder your ability to research?” 

“No.”

Dr. Hanson nods. “And what about your time with Newton?”

“My--what does that have to do with anything?” Hermann shifts uncomfortably, feeling that dread of scrutiny once more.

Dr. Hanson spreads his hands open, gesturing widely. "Did your cane and mobility stop you from enjoying your time with Newton? Did he have a problem with you keeping up with him that night?"

Hermann feels his face redden as he remembers certain details. The way they pressed close to dance together, the gentle way Newton handled him in bed, and the way he never seemed to notice the injury except to make sure he didn't hurt Hermann. No, he had not been slowed down or inconvenienced. He shakes his head. "Not at all, actually."

"So some woman you didn't get along with emotionally, intellectually, is upset you can't climb a mountain and you are now upset about it, too?" Dr. Hanson should sound condescending with his words, Hermann thinks, but he doesn't. He's not making fun of Hermann's anxiety ridden thought process, but rather, calling it into question. "Do you want to rethink your nights with the two dates?"

Hermann furrows his brows. "Perhaps I should, yes." 

Dr. Hanson nods and sits back again, scribbling quietly in his notebook. This is time for Hermann to think. It's happened in other sessions, after Dr. Hanson had given him some tools to reimagine and relive a scenario in a new state of mind. The revaluation helps. Hermann thinks back to Paul and the woman, and he remembers how  _ bored _ he was with them. Especially Paul. But even the woman whose name he can't remember for the life of him, and doesn't that just say something about their time together. As much as he feels bad about himself, he knows she does not fit what  _ he _ needs either. Incompatible, but neither a useless person for it, just useless for each other. Hermann had let his emotions take him on a tailspin of depression, and the term backslide had been correct. Now, in a clearer state of mind, he sees his worth. Mostly.

He nods and drops a hand from his cane, relaxing into his newfound comfort. "Just because they don't fit what I need doesn't mean someone else won't. But I still don't feel comfortable putting myself back out there. Like you said, I'm out of practice."

"So," Dr. Hanson smiles, clicking his pen off and returning his attention to Hermann. "Why not practice?"

Hermann waits for more, then frowns. "How?"

"Well, that escort service is a good idea if you've the funds," Dr. Hanson says. "I have a place I send clients sometimes. Usually couples, but I think this is a good idea for you, too." He gets up and walks to his desk, opening a drawer and rifling through. "Like a little vacation to work on some things." He pulls out a pamphlet and comes back over, holding it out to Hermann.

Hermann grabs the shiny paper and looks at the cover. It's got a background of a forest and a cozy looking cabin. The title says 'Redwood Getaway', which matches the red color of the cabin, Hermann supposes. He flips it open and inside is an agenda of activities aimed at couples. Wine tastings, canoeing, fireside massages. It's a romantic getaway that even boasts couples workshops, whatever that is.

He looks up at Dr. Hanson, a little confused. "You want me to hire an escort for a couple's vacation?"

Dr. Hanson shrugs. "Why not? You need practice, and this gives you enough time to do that while also having an end-date in sight. It's another date with boundaries and set expectations. No pressure."

Hermann flips the pamphlet over in his hands again, reading more of the details. It actually sounds like a nice weekend trip. Hermann hasn't gotten out of the city in a while, and can take a long weekend easily. Throw a lecture on Canvas for the students to watch and respond in chat. 

"What if I don't get along with the next escort they send?" Hermann's hands tighten in the pamphlet in worry.

"Can you request the same one, request Newton specifically?"

The man had said so when they parted that night. "I think so, but is that a good idea?"

Dr. Hanson gets that voice again, the one where he seems to know what Hermann is worried about but wants to hear him say it out loud. "Why would it be a bad thing?"

"Because I liked him, and he's trying to be a professional, not have a client who has actual feelings for him." Hermann can't look at Dr. Hanson as they have this conversation. He can barely believe he's speaking these thoughts out loud since they've been the ones he's been trying to hide for the last two weeks.

"Do you think it's wrong that you have feelings for him?"

"Yes, of course. It's supposed to be a business transaction."

"It's supposed to be a connection between two people. Feelings, good or bad, are expected."

The words are familiar, pieces of things said with Newton, and Hermann can't argue against them. "Alright, but what if I cross a line?"

Dr. Hanson shrugs. "So long as the line you cross isn't one that is physically hurting him, or making him do something he's not comfortable with, I'm sure it's not really a line you can cross. Newton knows his job, knows how to navigate client feelings, so I don't think you need to worry about that.”

"Sounds like one of those, easier said than done type things," Hermann huffs.

"Probably, but so is most of life."

And isn’t that the truth? Hermann sort of wishes he’d gotten the coffee now; he could use something hot in his hands, something to sip at. “What if it goes poorly?”

Another shrug. “Then it does and you leave. Over. You’re never stuck in these situations." Dr. Hanson smiles a little, like he's about to reveal a secret. "You have a way out."

"Ah," Hermann nods and sits back with his own half-smile. "Clever. But a good point," he concedes. "So, I have some phone calls to make, I suppose."

"I'll have my phone on me whatever weekend you go." Dr. Hanson makes strong eye contact, clearly making sure this is taken seriously. "If anything happens, anything, please call."

Hermann nods again. He means it, and there is a settling feeling now sinking through his body. This is what he comes here for, focus and a new look. Support. Herc Hanson has given him the permission he isn’t able to give himself, and Hermann feels better again.

“Thank you,” he says and reaches a hand over to clasp Dr. Hanson’s. 

They shake, and Dr. Hanson walks Hermann out of the office. It’s a touch early, but that’s fine. Hermann feels fine if not good, even. “Let me know when you’ve made the plans, right?”

“Of course.” Hermann grips the pamphlet and tries not to think about the nervousness at actually going through with the plan. It’s a phone call to a company he’s already spoken to before. It’s a weekend with a man he already knows and gets along with.

It takes Hermann three days to actually make the phone calls. He blames needing time to get the weekend picked out and things worked out for his classes, but there’s a nervousness still there. Sure, Dr. Hanson had helped Hermann allow himself to date again, to feel something about himself again, but that didn’t make the task of going through with it any easier. But that’s life, the good doctor had said.

He sets up a reservation for the cabin first, ensuring he has one near the lake and not too far of a walk from the community center where some of the activities will take place. Then he calls Shatter Escort.

“Shatter Escort, how may I help you?” A woman’s voice sounds brightly through the phone line.

Hermann clears his throat of nervousness. “Hello, yes, I would like to, um,” he freezes unsure of the wording. Buy sounds awful, secure sounds like some military thing, and rent feels like an impersonal sex thing. “I would like to spend a weekend with one of your escorts.”

“Certainly. Have you used our services before?”

“Yes, I have. My name is Hermann Gottlieb.” He grimaces at his misstep. He should have started with an introduction.

The woman doesn’t seem to mind. “Ah, yes, Mr. Gottlieb. It’s a pleasure to hear from you again. You would like someone for a weekend, Saturday and Sunday?”

“Actually, I have a cabin for a long weekend. We would drive up Thursday night and I would have him back late Sunday night.” Hermann’s hand is sweating as he holds the phone. He’s doing this. He’s actually doing this, and his heart is crawling up his chest into his throat the closer the conversation gets to asking for Newton specifically.

“That would be fine, but we will need the address you are staying at, and you will have to work out travel details with the escort. Were you planning on driving up together?”

Hermann nods. “I was hoping I would drive us there and back, if he’s comfortable with that. And of course. I have all the details and phone numbers to the office of Redwood Getaway.” He thinks he understands the concern of the woman; they want to make sure they can check on their escort and ensure his safety, so Hermann continues. “And the cabin has electricity, so he can charge his cellphone and check in at any time.”

The woman chuckles. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you, Mr. Gottlieb. We take the safety of our clients and escorts very seriously. Now, may I ask, what sort of weekend are you looking for so that we may match your escort accordingly.”

And now he’s on fire as he sits heavily on his couch, legs suddenly weak. “Actually I was,” he clears his throat, “hoping that I could employ Newton Geiszler again. He mentioned that I could request him specifically, is that correct?”

“It is. I will have to collect the details and send them to him to see if he’ll agree to it first. Is that alright?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“If he’s not available, we can still set you up with someone else. You prefer a male escort?”

Hermann pauses. He hasn’t thought about what he would do if Newton wasn’t available. It is specifically Newton that he wants to spend the weekend with, but the point is to practice, and for that he doesn’t technically need Newton. “Er, no, any gender is fine, actually. The weekend is…I mean to say that I would like to um…”

He hears the woman take a soft breath as though she’s thinking about stepping in and interrupting, but gives him a moment to finish his thoughts. When he doesn’t, she says with a smile in her tones, “It’s alright Mr. Gottlieb. I know this part can be a little odd to talk about. Is this supposed to be a romantic weekend? A little date weekend?”

“Yes, exactly. But nothing, um, sexual necessarily. I know that’s not, well it’s the time I’m paying for, but I don’t plan on--” he feels his voice cracking in nervousness. “It would be organic if anything, well it doesn’t matter. Nothing sexual.”

To her credit, the woman is a professional. There’s not even a hint of laughter from her. “That’s perfectly fine, Mr. Gottlieb. Often our clients aren’t looking for anything sexual. Our escorts are very good at personal, emotional connections. So it sounds like you would like a romantic, non-physical, companionable weekend, correct?"

“Yes, exactly.” He breathes out in relief. This will be a good weekend, he thinks. Even if Newton isn’t available. Shatter Escort has not let him down so far. “Thank you. When will I know if Newton or someone else will be accompanying me? I’d like to discuss the commute as you mentioned.”

“Hopefully by this afternoon but tomorrow the latest,” she says. “May I ask you to email those dates and details over to me so I may reach out to my escorts? You have our email from last time, correct?”

“Yes, I do. I’ll send those as soon as we hang up.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Gottlieb. I’ll also send over an estimated invoice. We’ll be in touch.” 

Hermann wishes her a good day and hangs up. He grabs the laptop and sends over the details, then isn’t sure what to do with himself. If he doesn’t do something, he’ll just sit in front of the laptop and wait for the email to come through, and that’s probably not healthy. So he gets up and strolls through the house. Everything is clean. No dishes or laundry to do.

As he passes the front door, he catches sight from the window of the flowers outside. He’s let some of his yard work go. The flowers and the little garden out back had been something Vanessa wanted. She would spend the early afternoons out there, digging in the dirt and creating life. Hermann had not been very good at it, but he’d enjoyed joining her and helping. She would give him little things to do, and he mostly managed not to mess anything up. 

He hasn’t had fresh veggies or herbs since her passing. The raised garden is overgrown, and the flowers are still there only because they are perennials that bloom each year, and so long as his sprinklers work, they seem to be holding on just fine. He needs to weed it out, though. He pays the neighbor boy down the way occasionally, but he’s off to college now, Hermann thinks.

Hermann changes into some clothes suitable for getting dirty, checks his email quickly, then grabs things and goes out to the flowers. It’s a little harder to get down on his knees and dig around the flowers, but he manages well enough. The weather is nice, and as he digs into the earth, he turns up dark, rich soil that emits a heady scent. It evokes memories of those afternoons with Vanessa, and the memories feel nice for once. They feel welcome.

He wonders if Newton likes gardening. 

Hermann tosses the weeds behind him to be gathered afterwards and tills the earth, adding some flower food he’s had sitting in the garage. He thinks of Vanessa frowning at him for it, but he can’t remember what she used to fertilize with. Something natural, possibly coffee grounds but he’s not sure. This will have to do, and she will forgive him, he thinks.

Hermann doesn’t realize how much time passes, and when he’s sweaty and covered in dark earth, he finally sits back and looks at his watch. Two and half hours. That could be enough time for Newton to get back to him. Hermann stands and rubs his hands on his trousers, knocking most of the dirt from them. He needs a shower, but not before he checks the email.

Carefully, he makes his way inside and to the living room. Hermann manages to keep most of the dirt on him and off his floor. He flips open the laptop and sees a new email from Shatter, so heart in his throat, he opens it up looking for Newton’s name.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A week after the incident with Mr. Shithead, Newton is starting to feel more like himself. He has not taken on another job yet, and Sacha has stayed at his apartment four of the seven days this week. She’s here again, demanding they order pizza and wings for lunch. Aleksis is sitting at the counter, nursing a beer and staying completely out of the toppings argument. Smart man, Newton thinks as he looks into the fiery eyes of Sacha where she’s definitely taking a stand on pineapple.

Eventually, they come to the conclusion that two pizzas with half-and-half toppings for both are a necessity. So, they get two large pizzas covered in a mismatch of toppings and finally settle on the couch together. Aleksis leans up against the arm of the couch and the large man looks huge on Newton’s furniture and in his small apartment. Sacha sits between the two of them and leans into Newton’s space. 

“You have not taken another job.”

Newton shakes his head. “I will. I’m just...taking some time.”

“I will go with you on a job if you want. You take one that’s a dinner or something, and we sit outside the place for you.”

Aleksis nods but stays quiet.

Newton chuckles. “That’s actually a good idea. Thanks for the offer.” He rubs the back of his neck and leans against her shoulder more. “I’ll probably pick up work again next week and let you know.”

“Good. Now, let’s fight about movie.”

“We’re not going to fight over a movie,” Newton insists but he realizes as he looks at Sacha that she’s right. They argue over a lot - food, t.v., the attractiveness of men - but it always ends up fine in the end. It’s just how they work. Two bullheaded, strong personalities asserting their opinions. Aleksis is good at sitting back and letting them go at it, tossing in his ideas now and again. He preferred to listen, to do rather than say. “Fine. What do you want to watch?”

Apparently Aleksis has ideas tonight though. He reaches down to the bag they brought and pulls out a box set of the  _ Alien _ movies. “We will watch this.”

Sacha and Newton turn to look at him, mouths dropped a little. 

“Well, I suppose that takes care of the fighting,” Newton laughs.

“Hmph,” Sacha nods. “Yes, those will do.”

“Wow are we actually agreeing on something?” He wags his eyebrows at Sacha and she knocks against him. 

With a snort, she says, “We agree on Aleksis always.”

Newton shrugs. “Good point. Put in the movie, Aleksis!”

The giant of a Russian hauls himself up and gets the movie set-up. Then he goes to the kitchen, riffles through Newton’s fridge like it’s his own, and brings back beers for each of them. Newton likes that he has friends who are close enough to go through his house and his things so comfortably. As much as he would tell friends to ‘make themselves at home’, very few actually took to the offer like these two brutes. Newton’s not sure how it happened that Sacha and Aleksis had become his closest friends, but he suspects it’s his personality. 

Newton knows he’s very good at playing what a customer needs for the time he’s purchased, but outside of that, he wants--no  _ needs _ \--to be himself, and not everyone gets along with the real Newton Geiszler. Sacha and Aleksis had taken to him very quickly, and soon work friends had become more than that.

They also do not have a lot of close friends. The three have come to spend most days off with each other, though this staying over at Newton’s is mostly new. All three like Tendo and are open to adding him to their friend-group except that there is still a feeling of ‘boss’ around him. So he usually just joins when they’re out for a drink. Beyond that, it's just them.

Newton’s not sure what brings this particular line of thought up, but he finds himself lost in it as he sits and waits for the pizza to get here. He’s seen the  _ Alien _ series enough that he doesn’t need to pay close attention to every detail, which makes the thoughts flow even easier.

What does Newton have in his life? A few friends, his research and school as pleasure, and a job he enjoys. But a job that seems to be showing him two things lately. One, he doesn’t have a strong connection to many people and he does crave something like that. Playing pretend at it with different people every weekend is not fulfilling that need anymore. Two, his work can be dangerous no matter how many protections Shatter insists upon. They were quick to react, but only because Newton managed to find a way out. If he had frozen, he would have been--

“Newt, look at me.” Sacha’s voice breaks through the torrent. 

“What?” He looks up at her as she asks, feeling out of place like he’s been woken from a dream. Apparently, he’s let himself get more lost than he means to. 

Sacha frowns. “You went pale, very pale. You alright?”

Newton nods, but that doesn’t feel true. “I think so. I was just remembering.”

“Want to talk about it? You haven’t really.”

“I don’t know.” And that is true. He thinks talking about it might help, but just the thought of opening up about his fears puts an ice-cold pain in his gut. If he talks about it, it becomes more real. He doesn’t want it to be real.

“Maybe you should talk to a therapist. They help, you know.” 

The way she says it makes Newton think she’s been to a therapist before. But Newton doesn’t like to go to therapy sessions. He’s been to a few before, back in his teenage years. They never felt good to him. It was like he was trying his best to skirt around things that he didn’t want to talk about, but he had to find things for the therapist to fix, and the game grew taxing after a while. He was surprised at how many of his therapists, because it had been many, had been fooled by him and then passed him on to ‘someone who could better handle his problems’. It upset his father, but his uncle insisted talking to someone was the best thing for him. Now, Newton doesn’t want to see another one.

“Eh, I never like them. They didn’t help.” He drops his head and realizes this means she’ll want him to talk to her instead. “I’ve just never had that sort of thing happen. You know? All the years working for Shatter, and that was the closest to, to, something actually  _ bad _ happening.”

He can feel Sacha nodding.

“If I hadn’t been able to text, to push my way out of that bathroom, they would have…”

“But they didn’t, and you are safe,” Sacha says quietly. “You are right to be afraid. It’s healthy to fear, to feel all of that. But you mustn't let it take the rest of your life, yes?”

“Yeah, I know that.” He does. He knows that but it doesn’t stop the anxiety from running through him, putting questions in his head about what might happen next. It doesn’t stop Newton from feeling panic every time he thinks about going out with someone else.

Aleksis leans forward, taking a swig from his beer. “You could change your profile.”

“Huh?” Newton glances around Sacha to her husband.

“Women only. They’re not all good either, but maybe it will help?”

Newton snorts. “It’s harder to talk to them, to pretend. At least I’m attracted to men, but with women there’s a lot more faking.”

“Right now, there’s a lot more faking you’ll be doing.” Sacha adds. She’s stopped the movie, paused it while they talk.

Before Newton can respond, the doorbell rings. Pizza’s arrived. He hangs his head, shakes it, then gets up to grab their order. At least the pause will stop the conversation for a minute. He needs time to collect himself again because this is getting to be too real, too quick. 

He opens the door and sees a young kid staring back at him over the pizza and wings. He’s got a dopey smile that reads hopeful, probably for a good tip. Newton fishes his wallet out and digs around for a ten dollar bill.

They exchange things and Newton says, “Thanks kid. Have a good night.”

“You too!” The kids chimes back.

Newton kicks the door shut on him and sinks back on it. “You guys miss being teenagers?” he asks. 

“No,” Sacha and Aleksis both say in unison.

“Hmm.” Newton brings the pizza and wings to the coffee table. “I do. Kind of. I mean, it was easier back then wasn’t it? Sure, people sucked and I was bullied a lot or whatever but still, you find your little group and run mayhem through the town you grow up in, not worrying about stupid adult shit or whatever. Like, I did some dumb shit, you guys.” He heads to the kitchen to fetch plates and napkins. “I remember we stole, we being me and a couple guys I sorta knew. I guess I was trying to impress them or something, but we took one of their trucks and drove to this like convenience store thing out on the edge of town. It had a life-size cow on the roof. I don’t know why, but everyone knew about it. So we were like, hey let's steal this thing. And we climbed on the roof and the damn thing was like, soldered onto the roof so we tried crowbars and we eventually knocked it down but it was so heavy we couldn’t get it in the truck.” Newton is chuckling as he sits back down on the couch. Sacha and Aleksis are listening attentively as they get the food open and distributed, and suddenly Newton’s not sure why he’s talking about this.

“It’s going to be alright, Newt. I promise,” Sacha says in her quiet, sure voice. 

“Yeah.” Newton piles food on his plate and turns the movie back on. He’s quiet then, busy chewing and not thinking. He lets his brain fully engage with the movie, listening to each piece of dialogue and watching every movement of the characters no matter how mundane.

They go through hell, but Ripley makes it out.

Newton wonders if he’ll be Ripley or one of those guys who dies at the beginning of the film.

  
  


Sacha and Aleksis stay the night, and the next day, Newton is glad for it. They all stay up too late and wake in the early afternoon. Aleksis stumbles around in just boxers and takes over making coffee in Newton's kitchen. Because there is coffee, Newt doesn't bitch about the man's state of undress. Sacha curls on the couch, eyes half-lidded as she waits for her caffeine. And Newt checks his phone. There's a text from Shatter, asking for a call-in.

It's for a job. He knows it's for a job, and he's not sure he can do it. But if they are asking him to call, someone has requested him specifically. Newton hasn't had regulars lately so he's not sure who it could possibly be. What if it's those guys using some other name to get at Newton? 

His heart hammers into his throat with the horrifying thoughts, and he's stuck. Newt is just gripping his phone as terror runs through him at the idea that they can still get to him somehow. Some rushing sound is pounding at his ears, far off but demanding. He tries to shake it from his mind, but the sound gets louder.

And then in a spark of clarity the sound makes sense. Sacha is saying his name. "Newt. Newton, look at me."

He snaps his head up and stares open-mouthed. "What--"

"Are you okay? What is wrong?" She carefully keeps her eyes from his phone, trusting him to tell her what needs to be told.

Newt shuts his mouth again and shakes his head. "A job, I think."

"Here, let me call." Sacha holds out her hand. "I will make sure it is safe."

He holds still, staring at the phone in his hand. Staring at the message. Then he hands the phone over because he knows he won't be able to make the call himself. Newt watches her take it and swipe through the phone to make the call. He hears the line ring twice and then a cheerful voice answers, "Hello, Mr. Geiszler. We have a job for you."

"This is Sacha. What is job?"

"Oh, Mrs. Kaidonovsky," the voice stays cheerful but a touch of reluctance enters the tone. "There is a request for Mr. Geiszler to stay a weekend with Mr. Gottlieb at a cabin retreat. Romantic, non-sexual."

"Mm. Hermann Gottlieb?"

Newton perks up at the name. He's told Sacha and Aleksis about Hermann, a little. He's told them he had enjoyed his night and told them about how odd it was. Sacha looks at Newton and he nods, holding out his hand.

Whatever fear he had a moment ago is gone now. Hermann is not Mr. Antoni. He's not like anybody Newton has met, and there has been a mix of anticipatory dread and sad acceptance at hearing from the man again. He isn't sure he can be completely professional with Hermann, but he also hasn't stopped thinking about him, about seeing him again. 

"It's Newt," he says, "what's the job?"

The receptionist gives him the details. A long romantic weekend at a cabin, a date essentially. And that's dangerous. It's another pure, innocent date with a man who is clearly on this earth to torture Newton, he's just decided. Or save him.

Of all the calls and all the jobs he could have gotten now, it's Hermann who calls. It's the one person who he knows will not hurt him, and he knows this after just one night with the man. 

"Okay," he says in almost a whisper.

"You'll need to call him to accept the job and to go over commuting details," she says and they hang up. 

"Okay, okay," Newton says. He gets up and starts to pace next to the couch. "You can do this. Just...dial the number. Call Hermann. Say yes." He doesn't make a move to call though. 

"You told us about Hermann." Aleksis comes over juggling three mugs of coffee. He carefully sets them down on the coffee table. "You like him? He's safe for you?"

Newton wants to say yes, because he is safe. But there's more to it than that. "The problem isn't him being _ safe _ ."

The husband and wife duo who've infiltrated Newt's life just stare. They are both very good at quietly pulling emotions and thoughts from Newt, mostly because he can't stand a silence. He's never been comfortable when it's quiet because his parents had had long silences between them and maybe if he'd spoken up they'd still be together. Maybe they wouldn't have had time to drown in the thoughts and false ideas that mutual silence can build between people, or in your own brain about yourself. Maybe--

"You're panicking again," Sacha says before falling quiet once more. 

"I made a mistake with him." Newt snorts a laugh. "I've made a lot of mistakes lately, but this is different. He's perfect and nice and smart and I like him too much, but I'm also a wreck right now and who the hell knows how I'll react to him when I'm emotional like this. I mean, what if I go mad and fall in love, drop to a knee and swear my love to him because I'm scared that I'll never find what he's offering from a another person, and I think I'm damned to that bathroom with people like Mr. Antoni and Cal because I've always been a fuck up and he doesn't deserve something like me."

"Someone," Sacha snaps. "Rant your fears and negative talk, but you are some _ one _ not some _ thing, _ no matter your fears."

“Fine, I’m not some _ one _ he should like. No someone he deserves. And if I take this job it will be great for me because I know it’s safe, and I’ll maybe get over some of my issues, but it’ll be bad for him because I won’t be professional and I’ll mess it all up.” Even Newton hears the craziness in his voice. He knows, logically, that a lot of what he’s saying isn’t right but he can’t make himself stop. Emotionally, he’s stuck with these feelings.

Sacha shakes her head. “You should take the job, Newt.”

Newt throws his hands up in the air and makes a few gestures that he hopes shows his frustrations. Sacha doesn’t pay much attention to them as she keeps going.

“You won’t talk to someone, I know, fine. But this job is a good one.” She looks at Newton a moment, nods her head once as though she’s decided something. “Practice.”

“Practice?”

“Yes, practice at working again.” She picks up one of the coffee mugs, the one where the coffee looks more like milk, and presses the mug toward Newt, calling him back to the couch. “Drink. Sit and listen.”

Newt takes the mug like he’s instructed and sits down next to her. He knows he can’t win an argument with her when he’s this emotionally confused. She’s the rational one right now. “Fine.” It’s their word, their concession. And she takes it.

“What happened a week ago was...not good.”

Newt snorts.

“And you need good to make it better. Hermann is good, you say. So, go. Practice. Learn to be professional again with someone good.” Sacha prods the mug in his hands, urging him to drink more.

“Practice. You don’t think that’s like...using him do you?” Newton’s not sure he’s okay with that idea. Hermann really does deserve someone good in his life. 

The house spoke of yearning. It was a beautiful place clearly made for a family, for a couple in love, but it had those empty places. Weeds and dust. A need for something good in return. Newton doesn’t believe he’s that kind of good.

“One day,” Sacha says as she looks away from him. “You will see you are good, too.” 

Aleksis sets his empty mug down and strolls over to Newton now. He’s the action, after all. He nudges Newton’s foot with his own and jerks his head toward the bedroom. “Go. Call.”

Newt makes a face, but that’s the only fight he puts up. He gets to his feet and goes to his bedroom, phone in his hand. Shatter has texted him Hermann’s number, and he stares at it, memorizing the number. He clicks out of the message, types the number in, and his thumb hovers over the call button. Everything is going to be fine, and this is the best thing for him. A romantic weekend getaway. Safe and secure. Newt swipes his thumb over the call button and jams the phone to his ear before he can change his mind.

Each ring thuds through him with a growing sense of dread. He’s an idiot.

“Hello?” Hermann’s deep voice sounds over the line.

“Uh, hi. It’s Newt. Er, Newton Geiszler from Shatter Escort?” He worries that Hermann won’t remember him for a dull moment before the thought doesn’t make sense. Of course he’s going to remember the guy he’d cooked dinner for and been fucked by just weeks ago.

“Yes, Newt.” Hermann clears his throat. “Have you accepted the, um,” he sounds like he’s struggling with his words, “employment?”

“Yeah, sounds like a fun weekend.” Newt makes himself smile, hoping it can be heard through the phone. “They said you wanted to talk about the commute?”

“Mhm. I was thinking I would drive us. There’s a cabin, I sent all the details to the woman who answered my call. Did she send it to you? I could email it directly if you’d like. The drive is just a few hours, but I thought it would be nice to drive together.” 

Newton doesn’t have to force the smile now. He’s grinning at the awkward charm of Hermann’s explanation and he doesn’t want to interrupt. Normally, Newton feels the need to put in his two-cents even when it’s not asked for. Perhaps especially when it’s not asked for. But he doesn’t want to stop Hermann yet.

“You could drive here, leave your car in my garage. And Shatter has the contact of those at the cabin, you’d have your phone. I promise everything will be safe or. Um. I don’t know what concerns you would have, but I’m happy to talk about them first.”

And now there’s something in the way he’s talking that sounds like he’s terrified that Newton will turn him down. Newt feels his chest tighten at that idea and realizes he’s definitely not going to say no. He can’t say no to this man. “That sounds good. I’m cool with you driving us. When should I come by?”

Hermann releases a noisy breath and his voice is calmer again. “Next Thursday evening. I would like to leave after I return from work. We can have dinner first or pick up something on the way.”

“Perfect. You know, a road trip always calls for food on the road. Bad gas station snacks and slushies maybe.”

Hermann grumbles. “Well that sounds absolutely horrible. I’ll pack us some things.”

Newton laughs. “What, you too good for gas station hotdogs? Dude, you gotta try them. Pile on relish, turn your tongue blue with a sugar filled drink.”

“Absolutely not!” Hermann sounds offended and Newton laughs again. “Newton Geiszler, I  _ will _ leave you on the side of the road if you put up a fuss about gas station hotdogs.” 

“Babe, that’s not fair.”

The breath Hermann takes this time is a sharp inhale. There’s a second where Newton thinks things are about to go sideways, but then Hermann exhales and his voice has pitched lower, quieter. “I will supply the food darling. All you have to do is show up.”

There it was again.  _ Darling _ , like Newton was something--someone--special. He has to swallow to speak again. “Deal. I’ll be over at yours by six?”

“Yes, that sounds good.”

“Good. Anything I should know about where we’re going? Anything in particular that I should pack?” His mind goes to the condoms and lubricant but he can’t get himself to mention those. He’ll bring them of course, just in case. 

“Well,” Hermann says. “There’s a lake, but it’s too cold to swim. I think we can go out on a canoe or some such thing. Sweaters?”

“Sweatshirts and a jacket, got it.”

He can almost  _ feel _ Hermann rolling his eyes. “Bring what’s comfortable. Those t-shirts with the graphics you mentioned.”

It was such a throw-away detail from their time a couple weeks ago that the comment strikes Newt to his core, makes him tighten the hand not on the phone. “Sure,” he says in a voice that’s pitching higher and higher as they keep going at this. “I can do that. We getting food supplies when we’re there or should I bring some stuff?”

“I’ll cover that. You shouldn’t spend any money on this.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Please,” Hermann interrupts. “I insist. I’m taking up your time with this, and you shouldn’t have to pay for that. I would like to be the one to treat you for the weekend.”

“Alright, I know when I’ve lost a battle.” Newton is pacing the room now, thinking about the coming weekend with hope now.

Hermann snorts, a disbelieving sound that Newt is already starting to get used to. “I highly doubt that. We have a lot of arguing to pick up on again. I think you were on the verge of telling me how wrong my theories were last time, before…”

“Right, before.” Newt swallows thickly again and pushes those memories right out so that he can actually keep up a rational conversation. “I definitely have a lot to say about that. Hopefully one weekend will be enough for me to make my point.”

“Good lord, do you really think I’m  _ that _ wrong?” It sounds like Hermann is walking around, too. His breath is just a little pitched with the walking.

Of course the man thinks that. “No! But I think we need to dig into the details because there are definitely some fallacies in some of your theory, just parts, but you’re going to have a lot of rethinking and researching after you hear what I’ve got to say.”

“We’ll see about that.” Hermann chuckles. “I’d like to get back around to something you said about your chemistry project, too, by the way. If you’re going to submit that paper you spoke about, you should think about having me read through it first.”

“What does an astrophysicist know about chemistry?” Newton teases.

“A lot more than you’d think. I may not have built up the degrees to support my knowledge, but I studied plenty and keep myself up to date in many fields. Chemistry being one of those.”

“Mm.” Newton is grinning so much his cheeks are hurting. “I’d be happy to bring my laptop along for you to take a look at.”

“Good. Now, I need to make sure the details are all worked out for our weekend. Might I text you this week if I have questions?” Hermann’s voice is softer again, that unsuredness back. 

“Absolutely. Text away, babe.” Newton chews his lip as he waits for a reaction. He wants to hear Hermann breathless again. He wants to know he has the ability to affect Hermann that way.

He’s rewarded with a soft sound and a hum. “Have a good afternoon, Newton Geiszler.”

“You too,” Newt says and then the phone hangs up. 

He pulls it from his face and barely keeps in the screech he wants to let out. He stares at the call screen that shows Hermann’s name and number, wondering at how this is all his life. Fear from what had almost happened, excitement over something positive to come, and trying to balance those two things. 

Newton sits down on the edge of his bed and tosses his phone behind him. This is good, this job is good. He can do this. Sacha said as much.

The conversation had been as nice as his time in Hermann’s house. It let Newton forget about why he should be nervous about working again. There is nothing about The Blue Marlin that crowds the feelings he has when speaking with Hermann. And this will be good practice.

When Newton finally leaves the room, he eyes Sacha and Aleksis wondering how much they heard and how much from that they inferred. When neither of them speak, it doesn’t give him any better of an idea. They might be his best friends, but they were still frustrating people to deal with sometimes.

“What?!” he exclaims at them, hands beginning their flustered and frustrated trajectory of  _ everywhere _ as he spoke. “It went well, okay. I’m going. I’m working again and everything will be fine.”

“Told you,” Sacha says. Newton’s not sure if she’s talking to him or Aleksis, but her husband just nods. “Now, food?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys drive to Redwood Getaway. There are slushies and feelings.

All of Thursday is a blur. Thankfully, Hermann knows his lectures by heart so he's able to push through it without much thought. That likely means his poor class is bored out of their minds listening to him drone, but he can't bring himself to care today. He’s practically vibrating with nervous energy at the thought of going home, finalizing some packing, and opening the door to Newton Geiszler back at his house. 

Paid for. Hermann needs to remember that this is practice, and he’s paid for Newton’s company. This is a professional thing for the man, and Hermann should likewise remain professional. 

He finishes his last class fifteen minutes early and his hands are shaking slightly as he packs up his satchel with his books, papers, and laptop. It takes a few minutes for his class to shuffle out since the lecture hall is often packed for this beginner course, and Hermann is bouncing on his toes as the last two head out. With a sharp breath, he snatches his cane and hurridely locks the room. The walk out to his car feels ridiculously long, and by the time Hermann is driving off campus, he’s worked himself up rather a lot.

“Calm down, man. This is  _ not _ a big deal. There’s nothing to stress about because this is practice. Boundaries and an end date. It will be just like the other night.” He swallows at the suddenly thick lump in his throat as he thinks of how the other night ended. Hermann may have changed the sheets and washed the ones they’d had sex in, but his mind was not so easily washed of the memories. And in spite of how the night had ended, Newton has said yes to this weekend.

Would he be expecting more of the like from Hermann? Certainly, it won’t be a big hardship to sleep with Newton again, but what the etiquette is here, he doesn’t know. And that is a brand-new worry that pervades his mind. By the time Hermann pulls into his driveway, he’s anxious with fresh worries and just sits for a long moment, hands wrapped around his steering wheel and eyes staring blankly at the center of it.

“Fuck.” He cuts the ignition and climbs out. Newton will be here soon, and he should be ready to go. 

Inside, he doesn’t have a lot left to do, but he wants to double check his house is in order. He sets the thermostat so the air doesn’t pop on uselessly. He cuts the water and unplugs electronics. He does a million little things that always drove Vanessa  _ mad _ when they took trips. She insisted it wasn’t necessary for their long weekends, and he insisted that it was. In the end, Vanessa always let him do it. She would follow him around, teasing at him, trying to pull him away into kisses and hugs, but he wouldn't give in to her wiles until he was satisfied with the state of the house.

Standing in the living room now, tv and systems unplugged, he misses the feel of her at his side. Misses the touch of her lips at the back of his neck and the way she would whisper against his skin, “Finished love?” He closes his eyes and fights back the building sob in his chest and then a knock.

One, two, three sharp raps on the wood of the door, and Hermann is pulled back to the present. He jumps a little and the ghosting memory of Vanessa vanishes from his skin. Hermann pulls open the door to see a mass of hair sticking up all over the place, a bright grin beneath square glasses, and a smattering of freckles. Newton. Just looking at him, Hermann is sure he's going to fail at being professional with him.

Hermann feels his own face break into a smile at seeing the man and he steps back, ushering with his hands for Newton to enter. “Come in, come in! I’m glad you took the, um, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah me too, man,” Newton says as he steps inside and stands sort of hovering to one side of the door.

There’s a moment where Hermann thinks he should lean in and hug Newton, but he isn’t sure. He slants his jaw as he contemplates what to do next and settles with shutting the door. “Don’t worry about your shoes. I’m nearly finished here, and then we can head out. Do you need a drink or the restroom or anything before we go?”

Newton reaches a hand out and wraps his fingers around Hermann’s bicep, giving him a light squeeze. “You seem a little nervous, Herms. It’s going to be a great time, don’t worry.”

His touch is warm, and Hermann feels it nearly to his bones. There’s such an earnesty in Newton’s voice that he believes him, he believes that yes, this weekend is going to be perfect. Patting his hand, Hermann smiles again. “Yes, you’re right of course. So, need anything while I finish up?”

“A drink would be nice. I can get it though.” Newton put the toe of his foot to the back of one shoe, but then stopped and started walking in. “It feels weird to keep my shoes on.”

Hermann follows after him, hands fidgeting as he glances over the house one more time. “It’s alright. I’ll do the floors when I’m home again.” He watches Newton from the corner of his eye as the man fishes down a glass and pours himself a water. Hermann shuffles to the windows, checking that they’re all locked, giving each a tug upward. They’re all set, of course, because he’d already locked and checked them earlier.

When he finishes, he comes to the kitchen where Newton is leaning near the sink with the glass in hand. Hermann’s breath catches as he takes in the scene. Light from the setting sun is coming in low through the window and illuminates against Newton’s back. It casts him in shadow from Hermann’s view, darkening his eyes and outlining his shorter, solid frame. He looks comfortable, natural with his hip propped against the counter, and Hermann likes the way he fits the scene, fits the house. Hermann swallows and forces himself to speak up.

“I’m going to bring my bags out to the car now,” he announces.

“Oh, let me help!” Newton spins and puts his glass in the sink before hurrying up behind Hermann.

Hermann hesitates in the hallway. Newton is going to follow him into his room, and the last time they were both in there, they’d been having sex. Hermann thinks he’s done a  _ pretty _ good job (horrible really) at putting that memory aside enough that he could sleep in there again, but having the man come back in now, he’s not sure what that will awaken. 

“Herms?” Newton’s voice sounds behind him.

“Er, sorry, running through my mental checklist again,” he lies. Shaking his head, Hermann leads Newton into the bedroom where he has a small suitcase, his satchel with some papers he really needs to look at this weekend, and an old backpack where he packed a towel and toiletries. Hermann doesn’t like to go much more than a day without shaving his face so he’d made sure to pack a razor in there.

Without hesitation, Newton grabs the suitcase. Hermann slings the backpack over his shoulder and they both reach for the satchel at the same time. “You get the doors so you can lock up, and I’ll get this,” Newton offers, his hand already closing around the strap. “Then you can help me move my stuff over to your car.”

Hermann pauses for just a moment, feeling out if this is because of Newton thinking he can’t carry his own things or if he’s just being gentlemanly. It seems like genuine politeness though. He’s even suggested that Hermann help move more bags outside, so it can’t be him looking down on Hermann’s condition, right? He nods and shoulders the backpack a little higher. “Alright.” 

And the man beams. He looks just as good casually standing with Hermann's things, in Hermann's bedroom, as he did in the kitchen.  _ Damn it _ . He needs to get out of here.

Newton doesn’t complain when Hermann takes one more loop around the house to ensure the lights are off. He even peeks into a bathroom for Hermann and gives him a thumbs up, and then they’re outside and Hermann’s locking the door. They pack up Hermann’s car, moving Newton’s stuff over, too. Newton pulls his car into the garage, and before a half-hour passes, they’re ready to go.

Suddenly, it all feels too quick. Hermann’s not sure why, but a blossom of  _ too much _ erupts in his chest, and he sits in the driveway with the car idling, his hands around the steering wheel as he stares at the garage door where they’ve stashed Newton’s car. The brushes of an image play in his mind, twisted metal and fire.

“Maybe it should be you who drives,” Hermann hears himself saying, surprised at the words but understanding through the surprise why he’s said it. 

He feels Newton’s eyes on him, assessing. “Because of the accident?” Newton asks in a voice so small Hermann nearly doesn’t catch it.

And it is that, isn’t it? He’s using Newton to move on from Vanessa, and he’s about to drive them for hours. Now, he isn’t sure he can do it. It’s too far, too many dangers. “It wasn’t my fault, the accident. I’d been driving, but the other driver--I tried to swerve.” Hermann’s hands tighten on the wheel. “But it was dark, his lights were off, and it was just too late.”

“Herms?” Newton’s hand just barely brushes at his forearm like he’s waiting for permission to touch him. When Hermann doesn’t pull away, the hand settles more firmly. “I can drive, if you want me to, but I trust you.” His thumb rubs comfortingly against Hermann’s skin.

The touch is warm and its heat crawls through Hermann, settling in his chest. Taking a deep breath and looking over, there’s a calmer feeling now. The cold of the memory fades as Newton’s bright blue-hazel eyes stare back at him. The fear isn’t so suffocating now, and Hermann lets his rational mind take over. “I--alright, let’s go.” He reaches down, Newton’s hand slipping away, and shifts the car into reverse. Backing out of the drive, it’s all begun now.

The first twenty minutes of the drive are quiet. The two pass a few comments to each other, commentary on their week, and there’s a touch of awkwardness. Hermann keeps his eyes on the road, but he can see from his peripheral how Newton fidgets. His hands seem to be in constant flux, foot tapping at the floor board, ankles crossing then uncrossing, and even his mouth silently scrunching. 

“Newton?”

“Huh?”

“Is something wrong?” Hermann risks a quick glance at him, then his eyes are right back on the road. 

“Uh, well, I was just thinking that this is going to be a long ride, and as much as Buxtehude worked for dancing, I think we should find some upbeat, fun, road trip music.” This sounds like a ramble for the sake of diverting attention. “Like Britney Spears but early years.” Once Newton starts talking, it becomes easier, and the distraction honestly works.

Hermann turns a hum into a no. “We are not listening to bad nineties pop music. I  _ will _ turn the car around if you put that on.”

Newton gasps. “No gas station hotdogs  _ and _ no nineties?”

“I can exchange you for someone else if you prefer.” 

“Pssh,” Newton spews and waves a hand in Hermann’s space. “You want to have fun, right? Stick with me old man and you’ll have fun.”

Hermann sputters at him. “Old man?”

The car fills with Newton’s laughter at Hermann’s astonishment. “No, come on, it’s a compliment! You’re an endearing old soul caught up in that handsome face.”

And now Hermann is blushing. “I don’t see how you can make ‘old man’ into a compliment, and I’ll ask you not to try it again.” Whatever heat would have been in his voice with anyone else is absent here. This ‘fighting’ is familiar, much like the playful arguing from their first night, and Hermann thinks that the drive is going to be as good as he hoped originally.

“Fine, I’ll stick to other compliments then, babe.”

_ Babe _ . Hermann likes that one, particularly from Newton’s lips. Vanessa had had her pet-names for him, but that had not been one. Hermann’s not sure he’s allowed anyone before Newton to call him that. The word plays through his mind and Hermann smiles. “And what might those be?” He’s fishing for a compliment, sure, but he thinks Newton won’t mind.

In fact, Newton’s face brightens and the movements that had been nervous fluttering are now adamant joy. He shifts in his seat so that he’s facing Hermann more, and one of his hands reach out to rest on Hermann’s shoulder. “You are an amazing cook. The steak was literally the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” he says and makes sounds much like when he’d taken the first bite of that steak. “But,” he says in a voice that makes Hermann tighten, “you don’t look like you eat enough of your own cooking. Like, clearly no one takes good enough care of you and--” Hermann cringes at that wording, flashes of the woman putting him down back in his head. Except he keeps going. “-- babe, you should let me cook for you! I bake the  _ best _ chocolate chip cookies, and we can get the things for it at the store. Seriously, this weekend should be all about someone taking care of you for once because you’re clearly so good at taking care of other people, and you deserve some pampering.”

“How do you know I don’t have someone to take care of me?” Hermann’s flustered, gripping at whatever he can from that rambling ‘compliment’. He doesn’t know if Shatter teaches them to flirt, but he thinks Newton missed that class if they do. 

The way Newton’s hands slide from his shoulder down his arm, gently caressing, draws his attention. “Because of the little things that are just  _ there. _ Don’t worry too much. I don’t think others notice, but that’s what I’m good at. Noticing.” He shrugs and pulls away, and Hermann’s arm feels too cold now. “We do need to get snacks soon, though.”

Hermann is still trying to process the compliments that Newton thinks he’s giving. He’s never had such backhanded compliments before and yet, with the way this energetic man presents them, they feel genuine and  _ good. _ “Fine.” And just what does he mean by  _ the little things? _

As they pull into a gas station, Hermann tenses for Newton’s exclaiming, just having a feeling it is coming. And it does. Newton lets out a high pitched yelp and grabs at Hermann again. “Really? You’re letting us get gas station food! Aw, babe, that’s so sweet!” His voice is amazingly high, but Hermann still finds it cute and endearing. If not a little sharp in his ears. He can get used to it.

“Mhm. I’m  _ not _ eating a hot dog, though, so you can get that out of your head right now.” He cuts the engine and gives Newton a pointed look. When Newton nods, his face still full of grinning, Hermann climbs out and sets the cane carefully. 

Newton hurries around the car to walk next to Hermann. “Fine, no hot dog, but we  _ have _ to get slushies. Blue raspberry is clearly the superior flavor, but if you go cherry I won’t judge too hard.”

Shaking his head, Hermann’s lips tighten into a smile. He appreciates the way Newton’s body bounces along beside his, never going too far ahead but still resonating  _ energy. _ It’s very clear that Hermann is in no way slowing him down. “A slushie sounds acceptable.” He thinks about not saying the next part, but there’s part of him that knows Newton will overreact in the most adorable fashion. “I’ve never had one, so I suppose I’ll get whatever you do.”

As he guessed, Newton’s eyes go wide, and he spins around so that he’s walking backward and looking at Hermann. “You’ve never--dude, you’re definitely getting blue raspberry then.” His hands are going wild, splaying out as he speaks. The animated way in which he does everything must be real, not something that he curates for the sake of the job. It’s very natural looking, punctuating points and blending with his facial expressions. “You’re going to love it, I promise. It’s the best type they have even though there’s a big debate about blue raspberry everything, but I swear by it. It’s a hill I’ll die on.”

Hermann snatches at Newton’s shirt when he nearly trips over the curb up to the sidewalk. “Careful!” he snaps.

Newton actually looks abashed, blushing as he turns back around and settles into calmer movements. He grabs the door handle and swings it open, gesturing with one arm to let Hermann go in first. They move through the racks of cheap food and head for the drink machines at the back. Next to coffee pots and pumps of cream is the slushie maker. It’s spinning unnaturally bright colored slush around, and Hermann’s starting to question his choice. He wrinkles his nose at the things as they stand in front of them.

But before he can back out of anything, Newton is shoving a huge plastic cup in his hands. “Here, hold this a sec.” Newton takes his own and fills it to nearly overflowing with the brightest blue ice drink Hermann’s ever seen. Then he shoves a tall lid on it, pops in a fat straw, and exchanges it for the empty one Hermann holds. “There, take a sip. How is it? Do you love it? They’re great right?”

Hermann stares at the thing, hesitating to put his lips to the straw. But at the excited smile Newton has, he decides to go for it. Taking a big sip, the blue liquid touches down on his tongue in a riot of sugar and fake berry flavor. It just tastes...blue. That’s all he can really think about it, it’s blue. He takes another sip, and it’s better. In an odd way. He doesn’t want to admit he likes it, necessarily, because that feels like some defeat in this little gas station tango he’s doing with Newton. So he pulls his lips from the straw and frowns a little. “It’s fine.”

Newton’s face falls. “Fine?” He shakes his head and puts his mouth to his own straw. Hermann can’t help but watch the way his lips wrap around the plastic, the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks up some of his own slushie. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and then he lets out a contented sigh. “Ah, so good. Look, just drink more. It’ll grow on you, I promise.”

“Hmm. You’re promising a lot.” Hermann takes another sip, and it really is growing on him. Still, he keeps his little frown in place. “Snacks?”

“Yeah!” Newton loops an arm through Hermann’s and drags him through the few aisles. 

It feels good having someone so close and joking back and forth as they scan the food choices. It’s a natural couple-thing he hasn’t had in a while. Eventually they have to let go as they stack their arms with chips, cookies, and awful junk food that Hermann’s stomach will hate him for later. He doesn’t typically eat this much processed food, but one evening won’t hurt. As Newton has said, it’s a road trip. 

They pay up and head back to the car. The sun is setting and casting an orange-red glow over the sky; it will be dark soon and Hermann feels a twinge of fear at that prospect. But Newton had said he trusted him. They'll be perfectly safe. 

They start back on the road and Newton immediately takes to opening up snacks and getting things ‘set up’ as he says. Hermann finds he’s still got a smile on his own face as he casts glances at the playful man next to him, and it’s a nice change, smiling. 

“So, are you ready to tell me what’s wrong with my work?” Hermann asks after they’ve settled in and eaten through some of their food. 

Newton swallows a mouthful of chips and laughs. “I’m  _ always _ ready to debate science. So, here’s the thing--”

Two hours later, they’re both yelling over each other to get in the next point but Hermann in no way feels diminished by it. They’re both clearly enjoying themselves, and the way Newton moves his hands all over, often resting on Hermann when an important point really needs to be made, is just amazing. The more excitement Newton gives off, the more Hermann feeds on it and feels just as invigorated.

But they’ve been going for a while, and Hermann needs both to relieve his bladder and stretch his leg. “Wait, wait, hold on. I need a break, and I want to give that last point my full attention.” Hermann turns on his blinker and heads for the rest stop that’s coming up.

“Sure dude. Because I think you’ll see what I mean after--”

“No, stop. I’m not going to pay attention yet.”

Newton laughs and slumps back in his seat. “Fine. How far are we from the cabin?”

Hermann eyes the map on his phone. “Uh, we’re about two-thirds of the way there.”

“I knew this conversation would take all weekend.” Newton snorts and pushes his glasses up his nose. “But I’ll remind you, you started it all.”

“We’ll need to break so I can read your work, too.” Hermann parks the car and cuts the engine again.

"Of course." Newton undoes his seat belt and climbs out.

Hermann does the same and sees Newton's arms stretching up over the roof of the car. 

“I’m actually really excited about that,” Newton says as they walk to the washroom. “But remember, this is your weekend and you by no means have to do that.”

The walk helps stretch out the kinks in Hermann's legs and lower back. “I want to,” he insists. 

After relieving themselves, they stroll back together. They go slowly, both clearly feeling the need to stay out of the car for a bit. It's a nice evening, cool weather making Hermann shiver a bit. He'd left his sweaters in his bag, thinking that the button up and vest would be enough on the drive.

"Look at that moon," Newton smiles. He's got his hands hooked behind his head, squinting at the arching crescent that's climbing its way through a dark blue sky. "I like when it's that way, looking like something took a big bite out of it," he chuckles.

Hermann's initial reaction is to scoff and delve into the technical and scientific things he knows about the universe, but the way Newton is looking at the sky stops him. He knows the man is intellectual, is someone who doesn't deny the science behind things, so there is nothing to defend here. This is just Newton appreciating aesthetics. Hermann can appreciate that, too. He has been, after all, what with all his staring at Newton. 

Pointedly tearing his eyes away and staring at the moon, Hermann nods. "It looks so small from here. It's amazing to think how vast the universe actually is."

"And how small we actually are." Newton looks at Hermann now. "But we're just as important as everything else, as every star. Each little piece of being is part of the universe and plays its part, is important to something, someone, somewhere."

Hermann looks at him again, lips pursed. "Mm. Who are you important to?"

He means it as a way to learn something more about Newton, but from the tightening of eyebrows and pursing of lips, Hermann thinks he's misstepped. 

"My father and uncle, I suppose. And the Kaidonovskys." Newton shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks up on his toes. "My mother too, in a way."

Hermann scoffs. "I have the same answer for my father, I think. A complicated relationship, that."

"Parental relationships are often… complex." There’s a tinge of sadness in his voice. 

They move toward the car again and pause at their doors, looking over the roof at each other. A quiet contemplation passes between them before Hermann nods and they get back inside.

Newton quietly plays nineties grunge from his phone the rest of the drive, a backtrack to their continued debate of Hermann's newest theory. They make one more stop to a grocery in town and get a few bags of food including things for Newton to bake chocolate chip cookies. He insists, and Hermann insists on paying.

When they reach Redwood Getaway, they're both tired and awestruck. Newton basically hangs out of the passenger window as the car crawls along a curved, dirt road lined with giant trees. The canopy blocks out most of the night sky, but the forest is dark and beautiful even in just the headlights of the car. 

Redwood Center is where they check in, handing over IDs and Hermann's credit card. They get two keys and a welcome packet with a scheduled agenda for the next three days. Newton takes that, looking it over between yawns.

"Ooh couples massage," he says as they're walking out.

"Mm." Hermann isn't comfortable with a stranger rubbing their hands all over him, but he doesn't say anything further. "I think we're close to the lake." 

"Yeah? That can make for a nice morning walk on the shore."

"That was my thought," Hermann says as they pull up to the cabin. 

It's cute. The porch has a swing and inside is an open design with a prominent fireplace bringing it all together. There's one bedroom, which Hermann hasn't fully thought about. They certainly haven't spoken about sleeping arrangements, and now that seems like a mistake. That is, until Newton bounds his way in and turns in circles as though it is the most magical place he's seen.

"Oh this is perfect," he grins and drops a bag on the couch. "Let's check out the bedroom. Bet it's got a huge wood framed bed with those like plaid hunting cabin-esque blankets." He practically skips there and apparently he’s been expecting a single bedroom, a single bed. Perhaps he really does think Hermann will want sex from him. 

Newton is right. The bed is massive and the frame and headboard look to be built out of a tree. Its pale wood is sticking up with curved branches, and the mattress boasts red and black plaid blankets. Hermann sinks a hand onto it and finds it giving but supportive. It will be great on his hip. He sets his bags down and looks at Newton. 

"We should probably get everything in before we settle down."

He nods. "Yeah, good idea. If I sit down, I won't be getting up again."

By the time they get their bags in and some of it unpacked, Hermann is exhausted and hungry. He's ready to change into pajamas, get a snack, and not get up for hours. Newton seems there with him, in spite of the constant low hum of energy he has in his movements. His eyes are tired.

Hermann takes some things to the bathroom and changes there, quickly washing his face. He hesitates at the door wondering if Newton is changed. He doesn't want to walk out on him half-dressed or, universe forbid, naked. That would be an embarrassing way to start the weekend. He presses an ear to the door and listens. Just beyond he can make out the sounds of movement but can't place them as anything solid. So, taking a deep breath, Hermann opens the door and steps out.

Newton is standing at the dresser in the room, unfolding a t-shirt. He's got a pair of sweatpants with his university's name down the leg. And he's not wearing a shirt, but there's a riot of color across his skin from all of the tattoos that cover most of his torso. Again, Hermann is struck by the contrast of  _ in-shape _ and  _ soft sides. _ He has a flash of a memory, of gripping at those sides as Newton fucks him into the mattress and he nearly comes undone right there, fists tightening at his side and on the cane. 

Hermann walks further into the room when Newton turns to look at him. "Are you hungry?" he asks and makes a point of not looking at Newton. "I was thinking of making tea and a toasted sandwich."

Newton raises an eyebrow and chuckles. "You're so British. How long have you been in the U.S.?" He slips the t-shirt on, some band shirt Hermann thinks, and his hair sticks up all over.

With a scoff of a laugh, Hermann says, "About...ten years, I think. My location doesn’t change my taste. Do you want anything or not?"

Newton tosses his hands up in defense then grins. "Yes please. What are you toasting?"

"Cheese and tomato?" Hermann hesitates for an okay or disagreement.

"Cool. I'll be out in a sec."

After nodding, Hermann makes his way out to the kitchen and gets to work. Thankfully, there's a kettle on the stovetop that he fills with water. Then he sets about getting things out the fridge for the sandwiches. 

By the time he's got one done and the tea is brewing in cups, Newton comes out looking like he's washed his face, the edges of his hair a bit wet. He comes right up to Hermann's side and places a hand low on his back, just like when Hermann had cooked dinner for him. The touch is warm and welcome, and Hermann can't help but lean into it. He closes his eyes a moment to fully appreciate the feel. 

"Can I do anything to help" Newton rubs his hand on Hermann's back and stays there, waiting for direction.

Hermann shakes his head. "No, just...stay."

Newton grins and leans closer. His body heat presses against Hermann like a physical thing. "I can do that." 

The sandwiches toast well and are on plates in just a few minutes. They take the plates and tea to the living room couches and sit there. The fireplace is cold, but the atmosphere is still nice; neither of them have the energy to light the thing. Instead, they sit close and munch on warm cheese. This is the quietest they've been since first starting the drive, but this time it's comfortable. There isn't a pressing need for words as they enjoy their snack and relax after a long day. 

When Hermann finishes, he sinks lower on the couch and lets his head fall back on the couch. His hand drops and accidentally lands on Newton's thigh. Just as he's lifting it away and an apology is on his lips, Newton covers his hand with his own and settles back with him.

"This is really nice, Herms," he whispers. "Thanks for taking me."

"Of course, darling," Hermann says back just as quietly. And perhaps the moment is too intimate, too close to real so soon because suddenly the word  _ darling _ is like honey in his mouth--thick and sweet and meant for a lover. His heart hammers in his chest as Newton's hand tightens around his in a squeeze.

"I like that, ‘darling’. It's sweet, Herms." Newton has his eyes closed, Hermann finds when he peeks at him. He looks relaxed and unaware of the battle now raging in Hermann. "You're sweet."

As they sit there, Hermann finds he can't look away from Newton's face. Whatever everyday stress Newton might have had this week is not there in his face. That tiredness he saw in Newton in the bedroom slides away as he sits lax here now. The smoothness of his face makes him look younger, and the freckles add to that youthfulness. They are smattered red-brown over his pale skin, disappearing into the scruff that's dusting his cheeks and chin. He has the longest eyelashes Hermann has seen, and they brush almost against his cheeks when his eyes are closed.

Glancing down to his arm, their hands entwined together, Hermann seeks out those freckles. In some of the lighter colored tattooed areas, he can make out a few freckles, and he tries to picture Newton's torso, bare again. How much of his body was covered in freckles, now hidden amidst the ink of artwork? He can't be sure. 

His eyes trail across his stomach, his chest, and up to the exposed throat. The slight bulge of his Adam's apple stands out, and the draw to suckle at it, to nip there and taste the warmth of a pulse pulls at Hermann's gut.

But it's more than just the physical draw. They'd spent the majority of the car ride tearing into each other's minds, pulling theories and ideas from one another in the same way people spoke of the weather or complained of their work days--easily. Naturally. They never ran out of points to make, ideas to defend or contradict. It was so like what he's had with Vanessa that the yearning he'd felt when Newton left the first time comes back. Which is ridiculous because Newton is sitting on the couch right next to him. Their fingers are wound together, thighs pressed close as body heat mingles.

But it won't always be that way, and that is the problem as much as it is the solution. He is practicing and setting end-dates with a person who is going to make Hermann fall in love right before he has to leave. This whole weekend is a terrible idea.

"I can  _ feel _ you thinking." Newton doesn't open his eyes but his thumb swipes back and forth over Hermann's hand. "Want to talk about it? I'm not quite asleep yet."

Hermann chuckles. "You look like you're close though."

With an inhale, Newton sits up and blinks rapidly a few times. "I'm sorry. You're paying for my time, and that was not giving you my full attention." He smiles at Hermann, still not looking awake enough. "Talk to me, babe."

Hermann shakes his head but still smiles from one side of his mouth. "I paid for the weekend, but I want you to enjoy yourself, too. Why don't we go to bed and maybe I'll talk there."

"Just talk?" Newton asks with wagging eyebrows and a tone that just drips  _ innuendo. _

Hermann glowers. "Yes just talk."

Chuckling, Newton withdraws his hand and stands up, stretching. Hermann catches a glimpse of a strip of bare skin between his shirt hem and pants, the skin there just as colorful as his arms. There’s a trail of dark hair as well, and Hermann rips his eyes away from it before Newton can notice and continue his teasing. He stands up as well and they bring their dishes to the sink, leaving them unwashed for now. That’s going to require energy that neither will have until tomorrow.

In the bedroom, Newton goes to the left side of the bed and turns down the blankets. Typically, Hermann preferred that side, but this is a new bed, a new place, and a new partner. It’s something he can get used to. He sees Newton hesitate and raises an eyebrow at him. Is there something to be nervous about here? Sure there is. They hadn’t talked about sleeping together,  _ just sleeping, _ and what are the expectations? Maybe Newton thinks he’ll be expected to have sex with Hermann even though Hermann had told the company no. Perhaps some other clients would demand that part of things, and now Hermann is angry at these expectations. He’s angry that someone might push that on Newton. He’s angry and it’s clearly showing on his face, in the downturn of his lips because Newton withdraws his hands from the blankets and bites his lip.

“Er, are you okay?” Newton asks. “Something we need to talk about first?”

“Sorry, no, that was.” Hermann clears his throat. “I didn’t think about the sleeping quarters, but what I said originally was true. I’m not looking for anything, um, sexual this weekend.” He can feel the flush running across his cheeks now and he feels awkward in his explanations. “This is just talking, just sleeping. You don’t have to feel pressured into anything, I mean, I’m not going to ask for--” he shakes his head and gets too flustered to continue.

Newton smiles and nods. “Alright. Hey, it’s good. You just looked upset for a second. Was that all? This is fine, Herms.” He pats the bed. “Enough room to share. I was going to ask if you mind if I slept in my boxers, though. I run hot.”

“Oh.” Hermann takes a second to process the moment, to process the way things had boiled down to misunderstanding in the quiet looks that had hesitated between them. “Oh! Yes, that’s fine. Sleep as you’re comfortable.” Hermann tries to rub the shyness from his face as he climbs into the bed and settles back against the headboard.

Stripping out of his shirt and pants, Newton climbs into the bed in just a pair of boxers. He moves quickly, not giving Hermann a lot of time to look him over. Not that Hermann is looking at him anyway. He’s not. He’s staring down at the duvet and willing his blush to fade away. 

They settle in, getting the blankets set in a way they both like, and it’s comfortable. Newton does run hot, like he’d said, and Hermann can feel his heat in the space between them. He thinks he might actually be able to sleep feeling warm for once. It will be another nice change for a weekend. 

“So, penny for your thoughts?” Newton tries. He’s rolled onto his side and he’s looking at Hermann with bright eyes. His glasses are a bit crooked from being smushed against a pillow but he doesn’t look like he’s going to remove them.

Hermann huffs quietly at this and reaches over. Newton lets him, and he carefully pulls the glasses away, folding them. He has to lean over Newton to set them on the table next to the bed, and again, Newton doesn’t stop him. Once he’s back to his side and snuggled down into the blankets, he looks over at Newton too and takes a breath.

“I have all of these...fears in my mind, I guess.” Hermann isn’t sure how much he’ll explain considering how much of it deals with Newton, but he can try to play with his words, he supposes. “Thoughts of what I’m going to do now. It’s quite time to move on, I should think. My therapist certainly thinks so.”

“Moving on how?” Newton looks sincerely interested.

“Dating. Seeing people and building new relationships.” Hermann rolls his eyes. “I’m just fine on my own. I have my work, my house. I have a garden and flowers I need to take better care of.”

Newton chuckles. “I noticed you weeded out the flowerbed.”

Hermann frowns. “Was it that bad?”

“Nah, but it looks even better now.” 

“You’re single right?” Hermann blurts. “There’s nothing wrong with just focusing on other things, like work and studies. I suppose I’m just wondering if I even  _ need _ to do what he says in order to ‘move on’. Moving on can be indulging in myself, can’t it?”

Newton nods furiously and tucks a hand beneath his cheek. “Absolutely. You don’t need to date again unless you  _ want _ to. A relationship is nice if you want it, but it’s just trouble and a waste of your time if you don’t.”

“Mm.” Hermann quietly thinks about that for a moment. He has important things in his life. He has friends he should spend more time with. He has work and his house and all sorts of things he’s let fall away since losing Vanessa that need cultivating. Perhaps this seeking a relationship  _ isn’t _ what needs attention afterall. Perhaps this weekend is going to show him something he hadn’t expected to find. “I enjoyed my relationship with Vanessa.”

“Sure,” Newton says with a smile. “And what else did you enjoy back then? Are you still doing those things?”

“Some of it.” Hermann shifts to his side, careful about his hip. The bed is perfect and he settles so they’re tucked closer now, whispering back and forth from their pillows. “I used to cook more. And I haven’t touched some of my hobbies in years.”

A frown touches the edges of Newton’s lips. “Maybe you need to work on building up that part of yourself, too. Let yourself be content, then go and see what’s out in the world. I’m guessing you don’t go out much.”

Hermann shakes his head. “Not really, no.”

“But you’re here!” Newton grins. “That’s a good step. Is that what this weekend is, practicing to ‘put yourself out there’?”

Another blush runs over Hermann’s cheeks but he’s not sure why this time. Something about the way Newton’s eyes are on him asking if this weekend with Newton is practice feels... _ wrong. _ He doesn’t want to say Newton is practice even though that’s exactly what he is. So, Hermann shrugs. “I suppose.”

The blankets ruffle and Newton brings a hand up from beneath. He reaches over and lets his fingers brush over Hermann’s forehead, pushing back his hair from his face. “That’s a good thing, Herms. Don’t worry. I took this weekend with you because of how the dinner went. I can tell you’re a good person going through some things, and I’m happy to help.” He opens his mouth again as though he’s going to say something more but then stops and just grins. His eyes squint a little now that he’s not wearing the glasses, like he’s trying to focus on Hermann’s face better.

“Thank you.” He watches as Newton pulls the hand back, retucking it beneath the blankets. He can feel the traces of the touch still tingling over his skin. Hermann yawns and settles more. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Mhm,” Newton hums, blinking a little slower.

“Are you happy?”

“Mm. I want to say yes but that’s the work part of me answering.” Newton glances down and it looks like his eyes settle on Hermann’s mouth, making the man freeze with a silent intake of breath. “I think I want something more, but that’s probably not in the cards for me.”

“What?” Hermann gapes at him, slanting his jaw crooked as he builds an argument. “Why not? You’re a great person. Fun, intellectual.” He blushes but needs to say it, needs Newton to know he’s worth more than he clearly thinks he does. “Handsome. And attentive. I elected to spend a whole weekend with you because of how you acted during our dinner. I’m not sure I would have taken anyone else from Shatter.”

Newton grins like he’s eating up the compliments and subsisting on them. “Thank you. That’s really cool of you to say, but uh, I  _ do  _ present a sort of character when I’m working. Not entirely, not like I’m totally fake and actually a horrible person outside of this, just...I put more effort in? And besides, everytime I get to telling people what I do for work, they have zero interest in dating an escort.”

Ah, Hermann hasn’t taken the job into account. He supposes he can see why that would be an issue for some, particularly if Newton was open to be sexually intimate with his clients. “And you want to keep working at Shatter?”

The way Newton’s face crumples, Hermann can tell his words came out more judgemental sounding than he means. It’s a reminder of his blunder the first night where he’d asked if Newton was actually fulfilled in life. He’s part way into a breath to explain further, to apologize, when Newton shakes his head and answers. 

“I do really enjoy my job. I like what I can offer people.” He flicks his eyes back to Hermann’s and the look on his face reads a little sad now. “I don’t think I should have to change everything for someone to accept me, ya know? It’s a job, and of course I’d stop the sexual things if I started dating someone seriously, but my work shouldn’t turn someone away. I think my job is a good one.”

He likes the way Newton’s voice sounds when he talks about his job. He’s clearly devoted to the work, and Hermann’s starting to see pieces of why that might be. He’s been great with Hermann, and that’s the job. He’s supposed to make those he goes out with feel better either about themselves or about the world for a little while. It  _ is _ a good job in the way that Newton views it, and maybe people like Hermann and those who’d rejected Newton just needed to change their view a little.

“I see.” He wants to say more but he’s not sure how to word it right now. Instead, he offers a smile.

“You’ll make a good boyfriend to someone, Herms. If you  _ do _ want to date, if this weekend goes well, you’ll be great and anyone would be lucky to have you.” Newton’s eyes are starting to fall shut again. He’s fighting to stay awake clearly, and Hermann can see him slipping.

They’ve both had a long night after all. 

“Mm.” Hermann rolls over and pulls down the lamp string to shut the light off in the room, then rolls back to his side. He can’t see much yet as his eyes still adjust to the dark, but he can hear Newton shifting. “Sleep. We can get up slowly tomorrow, have some breakfast, and explore what this place has.”

“Sounds good, babe.” 

Hermann doesn’t fall asleep right away. He’s tired, sure, but his mind is racing with thoughts about himself, about Newton. About the world in general. He spends some time watching as Newton drifts to sleep. There’s some light from the window that drifts in, moonlight from the crescent moon casting just enough to see Newton’s face in dark outlines. 

His breathing slows, deepens in his chest. The animated features slacken and his lips fall apart slightly so that Hermann can see just the tips of his teeth. And his brows fall lax making him look young again. Hermann’s caught by this, how soft he looks when he’s relaxed and not in constant movement. 

He wonders how he looks when sleeping. Hermann thinks he normally looks older than he is, with his hard, gaunt face. He never feels relaxed and wonders if he looks just as tense when he sleeps. He hopes not. Hermann rolls onto his back, his hips starting to send a shooting pain as he lies on it for too long. He tucks an arm up behind his head and stretches his legs as carefully as he can so he doesn’t wake Newton. The man doesn’t seem to notice any of it as he stays in the deep breathing, relaxed state.

Just as Hermann’s feeling comfortable and thinks he might be able to drift off to sleep, Newton shifts. He moves so that he’s tucked right up against Hermann’s side, and he even drapes an arm over him. The shuffling settles, and now Hermann feels like he’s got a heater pressed to his skin. Newton is just so  _ warm. _ It’s more comforting than he can say, but it also makes him worry. Newton’s asleep and doesn’t know he’s done this. What if that makes him uncomfortable in the morning? Then again, he might move away by then if he’s the type to shift around in his sleep. 

Hermann decides to let it go. He’d rather let Newton sleep then bother him over something that might not even be a big deal. Taking a breath, he closes his eyes and just lets the feel of someone wrapped tenderly around him lull him to sleep. He feels and hears Newton’s heartbeat against his side and it’s a comfort as he dreams.

Hermann wakes up first the next morning. Beyond the window, it’s still mostly dark outside; the sky has a dull pink just starting at the edges of the treeline and the deep blue is slightly softer up above. The moon is gone. He’s warm. Hermann usually wakes feeling chilled to the bone, and this warmth is different from just higher temperatures in a house. This warmth comes with an arm draped over his stomach. Newton hasn’t moved, and he’s tucked along Hermann’s side like it’s the most comfortable place to be.

Blinking heavily, Hermann glances around looking for a clock. He doesn’t find one, but he guesses it’s not yet seven. He should be asleep still, but something’s woken him up. The remnants of a dream try to rebuild in his mind, but the details are hazy. The more he chases the images, the further away they fade. He needs to shift, to stretch his leg, and does so carefully. He doesn’t want to wake Newton this early in the morning. The man seems barely to notice and Hermann manages to move enough to relieve some tension in his limb. But that movement makes him realize how much he needs to relieve his bladder.

“Damn,” he murmurs. He’ll have to move enough that Newton is definitely going to wake up. Hopefully he’s the type who falls right back asleep. 

Hermann moves as carefully as he can, slipping out from beneath Newton’s arm. He hears a groan behind him and turns to look. Newton’s eyes scrunch tighter then blink open slowly. He squints towards Hermann.

“Time’s it?”

“Early, not sure. Just using the restroom,” Hermann whispers. “Go back to sleep.” Hermann pads to the bathroom and cringes as he turns the light on. It’s too bright this early. 

Taking a piss and washing his hands, Hermann turns off the light and enters the dark bedroom again. He eyes the bed and sees Newton is still there but awake now. His eyes are open and he’s wearing his glasses. 

“I’m sorry for waking you,” Hermann says as he hurries back to the bed. He slips into the covers with a shiver, cold now that he doesn’t have Newton with all his heat wrapped around him. 

Newton shakes his head. “No big. Come here, you look cold,” he says and holds out an arm to Hermann, beckoning him back into a cuddle.

Hermann hesitates for a moment but then slips under the arm and lets Newton pull him to his chest. Twisting so he’s more on his stomach than his hip, Hermann sets his head on Newton’s shoulder and settles into the heat. “You’ve got your glasses back on. Are you not going back to sleep?”

“Nah, once I’m up, I’m up. I’ll slip out and make us breakfast. I promised to bake for you, right? I can make pancakes, which, not exactly baking but.” He shrugs, jostling Hermann just a little. “Why you up so early?”

“Mm, dreams I think. I can’t remember them though.”

“Dude, you’re seriously cold.” Newton runs his hands up and down Hermann’s arms trying to warm him up. “You sure it wasn’t that?”

Hermann scoffs a laugh. “I’m always cold. I’m used to waking up alone and cold.”

“Okay and that’s just heartbreaking. I take back everything from last night,” Newton says as he squeezes his arms around Hermann in a way that feels protective. “You definitely deserve someone to keep you warm and treat you to good food every day. Date.”

This time, Hermann gives a more genuine laugh. “Is that so?”

“Yup. Absolutely.” 

Hermann shifts a leg, bringing it up across Newton’s. “You’re keeping me warm.” His voice is low as he moves, and then his leg settles and Hermann flushes. Because his leg brushes along Newton’s thigh, and against something else. Newton is hard. “Oh, sorry,” he says quickly and pulls his leg back.

But Newton just chuckles and catches his leg before he can move too far. “You’re good man. Seriously, stop worrying over everything so much.” He places Hermann’s leg carefully back on his. 

“Right.” Now Hermann can’t get that erection out of his head. He’s brought back to flashes of the end of their dinner together. He can feel the rush of blood in his body spreading down, his neck and chest feeling as hot as his cheeks. 

Newton’s voice cuts through the quiet panic. “Hey Herms?”

“Mhm?” Hermann stops breathing for a moment, convinced he’s going to be called out for something, like Newton can read his thoughts.

“You’re thinking really loudly again. It’s this thing where you get a frown and your jaw goes all slanty. Plus your eyes focus on something way far away.” Newton runs a finger over Hermann’s brow. “Talk to me?”

“You’re really for talking about feelings.” Hermann huffs but he’s not actually sure he minds. He’s comfortable talking with Newton, even when things are  _ about _ Newton. And the man apparently knows the trick about being quiet because he stays silent as Hermann mulls over how to say things. “Just...remembering the night we had dinner.”

Newton lets out a humming sound and his hands are running along Hermann’s arms again. “Something in particular about that night? I mean, there’s a lot to think about.”

Possibly because Hermann’s thoughts are flooded with the sex they had, but he expected Newton’s voice to have more of a  _ tone _ to it. Something that reads suggestive. But it’s not, and that actually makes sense. There is a lot that went into their first night considering  _ why _ Hermann had hired him, and they’d talked about a lot of it. He shouldn’t be surprised that Newton focuses on things beyond the sex. Newton has shown so much substance in their short time together. And now Hermann can’t just blurt out his thoughts because it’s such a childish part to focus on, a shallow part of everything they could talk about. 

“Nothing in particular, I suppose. More about the feelings.” He shifts under Newton’s arm and freezes as he feels himself getting hard as well. He needs to stop the direction his thoughts are going and get himself back under control. He’s not some teenage boy with wild hormones after all. “You gave me a lot to think about since our talk last night, and I’m just examining my feelings. I honestly don’t know exactly what I want, but I know I’m not happy with where things are right now.”

“Well, you’ve got plenty of time to think about it.” Newton shifts a bit and sighs. “I need to pee. I’ll either be right back, or you can send me out to make pancakes.”

Hermann blinks at him and then nods. It seems like such an abrupt change, and he’s worried he’s done something wrong for a moment. “Right, yeah.” He lifts a little so Newton can retrieve his arm then watches him get up and head to the bathroom. 

When Newton comes back out, he smiles at Hermann and stands there in his boxers with his hands on his hips. “So, cuddles or breakfast?”

As much as Hermann wants to wrap himself in Newton’s arms and not get up for hours and hours, he also wants a moment to collect himself. And since they’re not going to go back to sleep, food does sound like a great idea. “Breakfast, I think.”

“Deal. Feel free to stay in bed ‘til things are ready. I’ll come get you,” he says and he’s back to speaking with his hands. That high energy Hermann is used to seeing already is back after a good night’s sleep. Newton practically bounces from the room, leaving the door half-open.

Hermann flips onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. He’s an absolute idiot. He takes a few deep breaths hoping to settle his body, but the erection is not going down. Listening carefully, he can hear the sounds of Newton getting things out for breakfast. He’s noisy, whistling to himself as he works. Hermann can be quiet about it. 

Sliding a hand down between the sheets, Hermann palms himself in his pajamas and rubs some friction along his dick. His body tightens at the feel, and he sucks in a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he slips his hands into his pajama bottoms and circles his dick, jerking his hand up and down tightly. In his mind, he pictures Newton’s body, his face, his hands, and he curses himself. It doesn’t take long and Hermann is biting his lip as he cums in his underwear. 

Getting up and snagging some clothes quickly, he goes to the bathroom and cleans himself up. He doesn’t think Newton has heard, and he makes sure to bury the dirty boxer-briefs beneath the clothes from yesterday. 

Once he’s in a pair of khakis and a nice button-down, he heads out to the main room, and his eyes go wide at the sight. The kitchen is a bit of a mess, but Newton has got pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fresh orange juice going. He’s got an adorable smudge of flour on his cheek while he stands there in just boxers, a spatula in hand. Hermann just got off, but the domestic sight of Newton is seconds from getting him all revved up again.

This was going to be a long weekend.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and feelings. Paintings and picnics. Mild angst and Hermann goes back on his initial stance for the weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting without major edits. I've let editing slip the last two chapters, apologies. I'll probably makes some grammar/typo edits to previous chapters this weekend.

_ You’re keeping me warm _ , Hermann had said to him. Newton tries really hard not to focus on the signs he keeps getting. Because this is a job. Hermann is paying for this time so he can act like Newton is his boyfriend if he wants to. He can pretend they’re married, they’re a tryst, secret gay lovers. Hermann can pretend they’re whatever the hell he wants to pretend because it’s his money, and Newton accepted the contract knowing full well what his feelings for the man are and how he's supposed to act professionally in spite of them. Complicated, that’s what his feelings fucking are.

After a great night driving up, having Hermann try a slushie for the first time, cuddling in bed together, Newton is standing in the kitchen cooking breakfast. He’s up early, which is something he  _ never _ does if he doesn’t absolutely have to. And he’s not even upset about it. In fact, Newton’s excited for Hermann to try his food. He means what he said last night, about the man needing someone to take care of him, pamper him a little. It’s clear that’s missing in his life right now.

The cabin is cool in the early fall, but the stovetop is warm enough that even though Newton is just in boxers, he’s still warm. He’s comfortable with his body being on display, but he wonders if he should cover up for Hermann’s sake. This is supposed to be a romantic getaway even though Hermann has said there won’t be sex, so surely a little skin and some petnames with cuddles is acceptable. Plus, Newton likes when he’s able to show off his tattoos. If the way Hermann is always watching him, little side glances he thinks Newton doesn’t notice, then he enjoys the half-dressed view of the tattoos, too.

Newton flips a pancake as he thinks and he’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Hermann join him until the man is fully in the kitchen next to him. Newton jumps a little and the spatula he had poised in his hand above the stove tumbles from his grip. He yelps and scrambles after it, but it clatters to the floor in a smear of pancake mix and bacon grease.

“Shit, sorry didn’t hear you come in.”

Hermann just chuckles and stoops to pick up the spatula before Newton can. “Didn’t mean to frighten you. Breakfast smells good.”

He looks Hermann over now that they’re both awake and rested. He looks tired. Not ‘needs sleep’ tired, rather a ‘tired of life’ sort of look. It’s in the lines around his eyes, the crease across his forehead that reads too much like constant tension. Newton plans to make that tension disappear before this weekend is over. If he can get Hermann to relax completely, he’ll consider this job a success. It helps to have a specific focus on longer jobs.

“I hope it tastes good, too.” Newton takes the spatula from Hermann’s hands and rinses it in the sink. At the same time, Hermann is getting a washcloth and mopping up the floor with it. “It’s nearly ready. I haven’t started the coffee though. Do you drink coffee or are you always a tea person?”

Hermann shakes his head and goes to the counter where the tea kettle is. “Coffee is for long work days. Tea is for relaxing. I’m afraid I’m much too British for my own good. My time there took away my German tendencies.”

“German?” Newton tilts his head. “I got the heritage from the name, but did you actually live in Germany for a while?”

Hermann nods. “Most of my childhood, in fact. I went to England in my late teens for school. It rather suited me and the only reason I left was for Vanessa.”

“I was born in Germany,” Newton grins. “Dual citizenship even though I was only there for a few years. I remember pieces of it, and I speak German thanks to my dad and uncle.” He flips the pancake and tosses it onto a pile of others. “I hope you like bacon, too. I made a bit much. Crispy or soft? I have it both ways just in case.” Newton realizes he’s rambling a bit, a nervous habit that he can usually suppress when working. He glances at Hermann while pulling the pan from the heat, hoping he doesn't mind how talkative Newton is.

“Crispy,” Hermann says as he rests a hand against the counter. “Should we sit outside on the porch? The weather looks nice this morning.” He ducks his head a little to glance out of the window above the sink. 

“That sounds good. But I’ll warn you. I have a penchant for making a mess. Clumsy,” Newton says as he grabs plates for them while Hermann gets his tea going.

There’s a heavy sigh from behind him and he hears Hermann moving around again. “I’ll fetch extra napkins, then.” He finishes his thought with a laugh though. “Perhaps one of the trainings you should take for your job is posture and etiquette.”

Newton laughs loudly at this. “That’s so fifties. I mean, do they even have those anymore?” He loads their plates up, pours a couple glasses of orange juice, then puts together a small pot of coffee for himself. He needs more than tea to function in the world.

“The boarding school I went to had those classes. I’m sure there’s some company somewhere making money from it still.” Hermann pours boiling water over his bagged tea and makes a sniff of noise, sounding displeased.

“What’s wrong?” Newton looks over their things trying to see if he’s messed up the pancakes or made too big of a mess. Everything seems fine. 

Hermann’s nose crinkles as he dunks the tea bag up and down. “I prefer fresh, loose leaf tea. But this was easier for traveling.” 

“I should have guessed,” Newton snorts. “Alright, that ready? I’m going to bring the plates out because I can’t balance everything and the door.”

“Nearly. I’ll get the door for you.” He lets go of the string and the thing sinks into the mug, string and all. It doesn’t seem to bother him anymore than its plain existence does, and he goes to the front door, propping it open. There’s a little doorstop that he stuffs in it. “There we go.” He straightens with a bright look of accomplishment.

“Thanks babe,” Newton grins and rubs his shoulder against Hermann’s. He likes the way the man blushes at the attention. 

As Hermann goes back to the kitchen, Newton steps out on the porch. The weather is nice. Even in the early morning, the rising sun is pouring a soft warmth through the trees and everything smells fresh. It’s a nice break from the city and congestion. It’s easier to breathe and think out here. He sets the plates on the porch swing and turns to look out at the forest surrounding them. The trees are tall, branches wide, but it’s surprisingly open. Newton half-expected to feel claustrophobia out here; not that he typically experiences that but the thought of a huge forest pressed in on a little cottage had different images in his mind than what he sees here. It’s easy to see pathways through the trees, and the dirt road is wide enough that a lot of light breaks down from the canopy. 

To the right is a small path that leads down to the lake. Now in the morning light, Newton can see the edges of the lake from their porch. Hermann was right about being close, and he wonders if he can convince him to go for a walk after breakfast. It looks pretty and he’d like to get a closer look.

Turning to go back in and fetch the drinks, he nearly runs into Hermann. The man is clutching his tea mug in one hand and leaning on the cane with the other. It slants his body to one side so he’s keeping his weight off the bad leg, and Newton is struck once more with the image of beautiful lines and angles. Hermann makes a fucking picture, that’s for sure.

“I’ll grab our other drinks. Make yourself comfy,” he grins motioning toward the swing.

Hermann nods and goes to the seat closest to the railing, setting his tea there by the plates. Newton heads inside and pours his coffee. He takes flavored creamers usually but settles with sugar and milk today. A lot of sugar. He’s almost embarrassed by the amount and hopes Hermann doesn’t come back in and see. Managing to cradle the two orange juice glasses and his coffee in his hands, Newton makes his way carefully back outside. He uses the railing to set the things down like Hermann has before he grabs his plate and joins Hermann on the swing.

The problem, of course, is that it’s a swing. As soon as Newton scoots himself up on it, it begins rocking and then he can’t sit all the way back on it. His legs are just slightly too short to be helpful. “Damn it,” he grumbles as he tries unsuccessfully to hold it still and slide back at the same time.

Hermann chortles around a mouthful of bacon and presses his good leg down into the porch floor, holding the swing as still as possible. “There darling, does that help?” There’s a glint of mischievousness in his eyes that puts a brilliant shine to his dark brown irises. It’s like someone has dripped honey into them and into his words.

Newton narrows his eyes at the man. “Thanks legs.” But he’s said his thank-you a bit too early. 

With a smile and glint still on his face, Hermann pushes the swing as Newton is shimmying. The swing goes back and then forward in a lurch that makes Newton nearly lose his balance. One of his arms pinwheel out and grab at the arm of the swing, all to the sounds of Hermann chuckling.

“Hermann!” Newton squeaks and tries to stretch his toes down enough to stop the swing. He barely scrapes along the porch and the swing only stops because Hermann’s planted his leg again. “Dude, not cool,” Newton protests, but they both know it’s not serious. He wouldn’t be laughing with Hermann if he meant it.

“Oh, I’m sorry Newt. I couldn’t help myself.”

Newton turns big eyes at Hermann. He’s used the nickname, which doesn’t happen often, Newton’s noticed. Hermann’s a bit on the proper end of things, and  _ darling _ was the most he’d gotten aside from his full name. To hear  _ Newt _ after such a playful thing makes him happy. “I forgive you. For now.” He points a finger at Hermann. “But you’re on thin ice, mister.”

"That's only fair. I promise to be a proper gentleman the rest of the day." Hermann smiles at him then gives his attention to his food. 

They eat quietly, enjoying the cool air and growing daylight. Hermann passes drinks over, not looking put off in the least that they have to keep passing things back and forth. When they've finished, Hermann takes their plates and sets them on the rail, handing over the coffee and clutching his tea. Then he uses his long leg to push the swing.

Newton sighs and sits back, enjoying the almost hypnotic rocking of the swing now that he's seated properly. It's nice. It's a great morning, in fact, and he's happy to sit and swing for a bit now that he's starting to feel properly awake. "We should walk by the lake," he says nodding toward the path.

"Mm, I would be amenable to that." 

It'll take forever for Newt to get used to hearing Hermann's atypical vocabulary. It's heart-flutteringly nice what with the accent and mannerisms. Newton's not sure he'll ever get tired of it, certainly not by the end of this weekend. “Good,” he says and scoots off the swing to bring their dishes inside. He deposits them in the sink and then goes to the bedroom to put on proper clothes. 

He finds Hermann standing at the edge of the porch steps, looking off toward the path and the lake. “Ready?” Hermann doesn’t turn as he asks, likely just hears Newton come up behind him.

“Yep.” Newton looks Hermann up and down and figures he’ll be staying in the khakis throughout the weekend. “So, is that as dressed down as you get?” He can’t help but tease as he walks beside Hermann.

“What do you mean?”

Newton chuckles, “I mean, do you even own a pair of jeans? What about shorts?” He loops an arm through Hermann’s, hesitating just enough that he could pull away if he wanted, and keeps going. “I saw the pajamas and even they were formal looking. You know about sweatpants, right?”

Hermann makes a grumbling noise at him but only tugs him closer. “And what about you? Do you own anything formal? It’s a good thing I’m taking you camping not out to a fancy dinner.”

“Hey, I got fancy duds for when they’re needed, but you gotta have relaxing clothes, too.”

“I’m relaxed. Do I not look relaxed?” Hermann argues. He’s got a frown on his face now and he looks  _ far _ from relaxed. 

So much so that Newton can’t help but laugh. He’s careful not to tug Hermann along with his movements, but the joy takes over much of his body movement. His arm slips in Hermann’s and he bends forward as they walk. He straightens after a couple deep guffaws and wipes beneath his glasses at his eyes, still laughing. “No, Hermann Gottlieb. You do  _ not _ look relaxed.” He looks at him again, making sure he hasn’t upset Hermann with all of his teasing.

In fact, Hermann is now smiling, eyes trailing each of Newton’s movements. “Well, perhaps the lake will change that. It’s supposed to be beautiful.”

They’re on the trail now and getting closer. The soft sound of water lapping at the shore starts to mingle with their conversation. It really is a gorgeous morning. The beach is dirt and stone, a little rough under their feet, and Newton keeps his arm through Hermann's. He hopes he doesn't fall and take Hermann down with him considering how damned clumsy he is. 

"This was a good idea," Hermann says with a flash of a smile. "Don't get too close to the water; you'll get your feet wet." He tugs at Newton a little, and they lilt away from the water. 

Newton pats at Hermann's arm in a bratty show of 'thanks', to which Hermann just juts his head higher at. "Did you have some ideas for today?" He asks Hermann.

"Er, perhaps. Today I believe there's some art thing at the main cabin." Hermann looks out over the water. "Is that something you'd be interested in?'

"Ha! I'm pretty shit at art, but it could be fun." Newton kicks a pebble, it's skittering sounds echoing in the quiet of the morning. "Just don't laugh at me."

"You're bad at art? I don't know why, but I thought you'd be really good at it." Hermann looks down at Newton's arm, the tattoos there. "Perhaps because of all the art on your body."

Newton shrugs. "I enjoy it, just not good at making it myself." 

"Mm, well I hope it's oils or watercolors." Hermann hums and then falls quiet. 

They walk like that for a while circling the edge of the frankly large lake. The trees are pulled back from the shore allowing a lot of sunlight, and a lot of space for them. No one else seems to be out this early in morning, and Newton's not even sure how many others are in the place. Or how many cabins there are. What he does know is that he's strolling along with Hermann and he's not feeling any of the nervous stress that had engulfed his week. He's comfortable, happy. And Hermann seems to be the same.

It's getting brighter and they've gone around a curve in the lake, getting to a rockier part of the shore. Hermann places his cane amid the rocks and the thing slips, rocks skittering across their path. He jerks in Newton’s arm, pulling away and falling toward the ground. Newton scrambles after him, wrapping his arms around Hermann’s middle to keep him from hitting the ground. The cane falls from his grasp, but they’re upright, neither hitting the rocky ground at their feet.

“Shit, that was close,” Newton breaths out an almost laughing sound.

Hermann shudders in his grasp. “I’m sorry. That was stupid. I’m really sorry about all this. I don’t know what I was thinking, making reservations to some outdoor activity. Some place where I’d have trouble getting around and make a mess of things. You must be bored walking at my pace, and me nearly falling, and clearly this isn’t a place for me and now you’re stuck with me here for the whole weekend--”

Newton has no idea what this rambling is about, but he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like the look of defeat and pain and disappointment in the scrunching of Hermann’s face. Because the disappointment is clearly with himself and not with something Newton’s messed up. It shouldn’t be there. Hermann is a fantastic person and shouldn’t feel bad in the least about tripping. Everyone has their moments, and Newton is a clumsy shit. It could just as likely have been  _ him _ to fall instead of Hermann. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Dude, stop.” Newton grips at Hermann’s upper arms, steadying him in his ranting. “Stop, seriously. This was not a big deal.” They look at each other as Hermann takes a breath and tries to calm himself. “I mean,  _ something _ is a big deal, but this was not a big thing to me. Okay? I’m having fun, and I will have fun with you the entire weekend. You in no way are capable of making me bored.”

“You’re impossibly sweet, Newton, and it’s how I’m reminded that I’m paying for your time and your nice sentiments.” Hermann tears his eyes away from Newton and stoops to pick his cane up. “We should turn back. I don’t think I can go any further this morning.”

His voice is changed. There’s no longer the excitement that had started the day. It just sounds like defeat, and Newton hates it. This is beginning to feel like a defeat on Newton’s part. Whatever worries Newt thought he’d deal with here, residual anxiety over being mistreated, is overwhelmed by Hermann’s clear concerns with himself. Not only is Newton a thousand percent sure he never has to worry about Hermann hurting him, he’s now sure that something has happened in the weeks between their meeting that’s set some new insecurities off in the man. Or woken up something that hasn’t been there in some time.

“Alright, that’s fine,” Newton says gently. He tries to keep his voice steady and soft. Calming. “We can go back, wash up a little, and maybe check out the Center or whatever it’s called.”

Hermann just nods, but he’s walking again. Though, he’s keeping some distance between himself and Newton.

As they make their way back along the shore, staying as far off the rocky shoreline as possible, Newton can’t help himself. “Can I just say one thing?”

“Mmm.” It’s thought, not permission, so Newton waits. “Yes, you may. But I may not respond to it.”

“That’s fine,” Newton assures. “But it’s something I need you to have in mind for the weekend.” Hermann nods so Newt continues. “You might be paying Shatter for my time, and technically me I suppose, but I chose to accept the job because I like you as a person. I couldn’t stay a long weekend with just any client. In fact, I had a bad job just like a week ago and you’re the first person I’ve gone with since, the first I’ve  _ wanted _ to hang out with. Okay? You’re a great guy, Herms. That’s why I’m here.”

He doesn’t respond, just like he’s warned, but Newton can see him thinking. His eyebrows have drawn lower and his cheeks hollowed like he’s sucking at his teeth. He’s also letting Newton stray a little closer as they near the path back to the cabin. It’s a smaller area and closeness is required for them to both stay on the path together, but it still feels like some conceded progress. Newton takes advantage of it and keeps close by Hermann’s side, not wanting to lose the connection they’ve made this far.

Hermann is the first one up the steps and he holds the door open for Newton. “Thank you,” Newt says as he passes inside. There’s a strong air that it’s important he accept the proffered door, and Newt wonders if someone has said something to him about his leg or his abilities. The reaction at the lake felt blown out of proportion.

Inside, they take turns using the bathroom to shower and clean up. Newton goes first, and he finds his favorite shirt afterwards. Hermann had specifically mentioned his graphic tees afterall. This one is an old comic-style Godzilla tearing through tall buildings. He throws on a soft pair of jeans with it and sits himself on the couch next to the fireplace. They’ve still not lit it, especially now that they’re about to head out and adventure around the place for a while, but Newton all of a sudden can’t wait to get it going. He wants to cuddle up with Hermann in front of it, maybe talk him into roasting marshmallows in it. He’s sure Hermann will argue that that’s an outdoor firepit activity, but he’s also sure he can convince the man otherwise.

Hermann doesn’t take long in the shower, and when he comes out freshly dressed, he’s actually wearing a pair of jeans and a light sweater. Replaying the conversation in his head, Newton realizes Hermann never actually said he didn’t own jeans, but it’s still a nice surprise to see him look so...normal.

“Hey, look at you!” Newton beams, spreading his arms wide as he gestures up and down Hermann’s body. “You look relaxed.”

Hermann for his part drags his eyes up and down Newton. He fixates on the shirt and gives one of those frowns that doesn’t seem upset, but rather amused. It reads that way because his eyes crinkle and light up. It’s a facial expression Newton’s not seen on anyone else, and he really likes it.

“You brought your t-shirts,” he says in a low hum of a voice.

“Yep! This one’s my fav. Whaddaya think?” Now Newton is swinging his arms as a way to show himself off. He even stands up and gives a little spin around, trying to dredge out all of those awful feelings from the beach, to bring Hermann back to this weekend and the fun they’re supposed to have. Newt figures it’s a good idea he’s practicing, that Newt is the one here now to help him work some things out.

And now Hermann is genuinely smiling. Whatever awkwardness might have stuck around after the lake has faded and Newton’s happy for that. “You look wonderful, darling.” Hermann shuffles toward the door. “Now come on or we may be late.”

Newton follows after him and they climb into the car together, driving over to the Redwood Center. There are two other cars there now, and Newt wonders what sort of people will be there. He's suddenly a bit nervous at the prospect of playing boyfriend to Hermann in front of other people. What if they can tell it's fake? What will they think of Hermann? He doesn't like the idea of people thinking negatively of the man.

"Coming?" Hermann asks a few strides away from the car, looking back at Newt who hasn't moved from shutting the passenger door. Hermann's got an eyebrow hiked up and he's tipping his cane impatiently back and forth.

Newt jumps to movement. "Yeah, yeah right behind you." 

Well, Hermann doesn't seem nervous at all and that's a touch settling. Newt stays close as they walk inside. It's a large, wooden building with wide hallways and doors on both sides. To the left is a little alcove where they checked in before; a welcome desk and some chairs to wait in. They head over to the desk where an older woman is sat with some knitting. It's honestly the most romantically cliche place Newt has ever seen and he loves it just as much as it makes him cringe.

"There's supposed to be an art...class? Thing, today?" Hermann sounds so unsure all of a sudden. He's mentioned being socially awkward but Newton hasn't been sure until now. It's adorable. "Is it here, or well not here, but in the center somewhere?"

Newt smothers a laugh into the back of Hermann's shoulder as the woman looks up at them and croaks out, "Ah yes dearie that's here today. Just down the hall, sweethearts." She stops, spies Newt and frowns a little. "Are you two together then?"

Ah.  _ That _ type of older person, Newt thinks with trepidation. But he slips his fingers into Hermann's and grins. "Oh yeah, are you kidding? Look at this guy. One glance at that jaw and I was done for. And you should see him in bed," he says with a wink that makes the woman blush furiously.

Hermann kicks him. Harder than Newt guessed he could have. "Darling, do shut up."

Newt just laughs as Hermann thanks her and nearly jerks Newt's arm out of his socket as he drags him to the hallway. They slow down once they're around the corner and alone again. 

"Sorry," Newt manages. "Too much?"

Hermann snorts. Shakes his head. His shoulders relax. "No, it just caught me off guard is all. You're terrible, Newton Geiszler."

"I try my best." Newt spies a door cracked open with a sign on it that says in horrible glitter writing "Art Extravaganza" and nudges shoulders. "Think that's it. This will be hilarious if it's finger painting and glitter and stick ons."

"I would absolutely  _ loathe _ that."

"Which is why it'd be great," Newt presses. "I can already see the seething rage on your face as you try to politely make it work."

Hermann sucks his teeth at Newt. "And you'd be there covered in art supplies like you thought  _ you _ were the canvas."

"To be fair," Newt says as he opens the door for Hermann. "I make a pretty awesome canvas."

And perhaps he's spoken a bit loudly, or the room was just too quiet. Likely a bit of both, but they're standing now in front of two other couples and an older man with thick glasses who might be their art instructor. The man is wearing bright, mismatched clothing that screams artist. And everyone is looking at Newton and Hermann now. Neither of them move, both clearly not comfortable with the scrutiny, until the artist speaks up loudly.

"Welcome, welcome! I thought we had one more set of guests. Come in, there's your canvas." He gestures at a table with two stools and one large canvas. "Take a seat and we will get started. Go on now, don't be shy."

Hermann breaks first, taking a rigid step as the couples turn back to their canvases. Newt follows him and glances at the others. One middle aged couple who look like they have a tennis court in their backyard, and one younger couple who likely won this trip or saved up for a few years. He knows which ones he's more likely to get along with.

"Why is there only one canvas?" Hermann whispers. 

Newton just shrugs and figures this is going to be nearly as painful for Hermann as the prospect of finger paints. "I think we are doing a couple's painting."

Hermann grunts. "Sounds awful."

"What, don't trust we work well together?"

"It's not that. Art is very...personal. it's supposed to be done by one person."

"Today," the man interrupts. "We will be doing acrylic paintings and you will have to work together. One mind. One vision. Two artists. We will see your relationships blossom through paint!" He ends with his hands in the air, a paint brush in each.

Again, Newton is struck by the feeling of being trapped in some t.v. cliche but with Hermann next to him, it's sort of great. He looks over at him now and sees agony in the slanted jaw and narrowed eyes. His nostrils flair as he seems to suddenly remember that breathing is necessary. Newt chuckles, tucking his face into Hermann's shoulder again. The soft material of the sweater is nice, and he can't help but nuzzle his nose on it.

"Will you stop that? I'm having a crisis here and you're just nuzzling!" Hermann whispers loudly.

That only makes Newton laugh harder. He puts a hand on Hermann's lower back and pulls up, taking a breath to control himself. "I'm sorry. This is just so much better than what I was imagining earlier. Seriously, the greatest."

"Why, because I'm being tormented?"

"It's the faces you make, yes." Newton pats his leg, and Hermann grabs his hand.

He squeezes Newton’s hand and says in a serious tone, “I’m glad you’re finding pleasure in my pain. Now we’ve reached peak relationship goals.” He deposits Newton’s hand back in his own lap and leans on the table to stare at the canvas. “Shoot me before the end of this.”

Newton snorts again and wonders if he’s going to spend the entire class laughing at Hermann. It seems so. He looks up sharply when the art teacher clears his throat.

“Shall we begin then?” At the front, the man has opened a large window that happens to look out over the lake and the trees beyond it. Clearly this room is set up just for painting that scene. “Your paints and brushes are in the bins next to your tables, water at the sinks in the back, and this,” he extends his arm to the window. “Is your subject!”

“You know,” Newton says leaning across the space to Hermann’s ear so only he hears. “I could paint you instead. Would you pose for me? We’ll wrap you in just a sheet from the bed.”

Hermann’s face flushes, and Newt remembers from their night together that his blush extends down to his chest. He heats beautifully in his bashfulness. But he surprises Newt. “Perhaps if we were back in our cabin and not with all these other people.”

Now it’s Newt’s turn to flush because he can just picture it; Hermann sat on a chair, one of his long legs sticking out from the sheet. Light streaming in from a window to shine a ray of yellow across one half of him. His jaw catching just so in the light, shoulder exposed from the sheet and that warm dip between neck and collarbone cast in darkness. Untouched but for Newt’s lips. And now he has a different problem. His pants are a bit tight with the erection he’s given himself in his imaginings.  _ Shit _ . 

“You alright, Darling?” The way Hermann hums, pressing close to Newton’s ear, he must know what he’s done to Newt. He must see the battle now happening in Newton’s mind. “Shall I get up for the paints, then?”

Newt clears his throat and shakes his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s right here, I can get it.” He can, but he has to get up off the chair because his arms aren’t long enough to reach down in the bin. So he crouches there and pulls out paint tubes and paint brushes. He passes them up to Hermann who has taken over the laughing portion of this whole thing. He’s smirking, that stupid glint in his eye that was there when he’d pushed the swing away while Newt tried to climb on. He was full of trouble, and it was just one more thing for Newt to like about the man.

They get settled with the paints lined up neatly, and paintbrushes in hand that took minutes for each of them to decide on starting with. That argument isn’t really done yet because the brush depends on what they are going to start with and neither can agree.

“You have to set some of the background tones first. You don’t just dive into detail. It has to be built up slowly,” Hermann is saying.

Newton shakes his head. “Well I think if I start on trees over on this side and you start the lake on that side, then it’ll work just fine.”

“Newton, you’re being obtuse.”

“Oh, am I?” Newton dips his brush into green paint and slashes a streak down part of the canvas. “There, now we’ve started.”

“Newton!” Hermann snaps.

“Hermann!” Newton mocks back in a high tone. It’s that screechy voice he gets when he’s excited, one he’s often embarrassed about. Hermann doesn’t seem to mind it though.

Instead, Hermann takes a big brush and smears a streak of blue where the lake sits. “Fine, there’s a lake.”

Newt gives a humph. “It’s a start, yeah.”

They narrow their eyes at each other and both seem to realize at the same time how loud they’ve gotten. There are others in the room, and they’re chatting now. About them. 

“You boys might benefit from the couple’s workshop tomorrow,” offers the middle aged woman. 

The man with her chortles. “When has talking ever helped  _ our _ relationship? They just need a good bone.”

“Bone, Charles? Did you really just call it that?”

And now the young couple is cracking up, and Hermann is blushing again. Newton smirks and nudges Hermann. “What do you think, Herms? Need a good bone?”

He blusters a moment, puffing up with that stoic British upper-lip. “I should think not.” He dips the paint brush again and adds to the blue of the lake. “What I need is for you to fix that ‘tree’ on your half of the canvas.”

The art teacher looks at a loss now, eyes darting between his students as they mangle the paintings and each other. “There are no halves, gentlemen. You work and build that together,” he tries.

Hermann and Newton snort at the same time. They eye each other, and Newton grins. He takes a finger and runs it through the blue paint on the table then smears it along the edge of Hermann’s lake. “There, my side now too.”

Hermann looks aghast, mouth dropped open. “I sweat, by the end of this weekend, one of us will end up dead. And there’s a bloody beautiful lake to drop you in!”

Newton laughs and grabs Hermann’s hand. The man resists a moment but then relaxes. Newt puts a dab of green paint on the tip of his index finger. “Alright, but you’re not murdering me right now, so work with me here.” He guides Hermann’s finger to the canvas and runs it along part of the tree that is slowly being painted.

From there, everything both devolves and becomes so much better. So much more. All three couples have abandoned the traditional and found their own ways to make this fun. There’s a good bit of bickering between everyone, but no one actually seems upset. It's playful, a really good atmosphere and Newton sinks into it with Hermann.

He and Hermann have taken to making a mess together. Well, Newton is a mess. Hermann somehow manages to only get his fingertips in any of the paint. But they’re building a scene on the canvas. A lake and hillside forest emerge in the finger smudges and brush strokes. Colors come together to form objects. And if there had been anything troubling Hermann at the lake earlier, it’s all but vanished from his mind now it would seem. 

A couple of hours later, everyone is cleaning up and setting their paintings on displays to dry properly. The art teacher doesn’t look completely defeated by this group, and the other couples have bonded. Not so much with Hermann and Newton, but they’re pleasant enough that if they run into each other later, Newt won’t feel too awkward about it. 

“So,” Hermann takes a breath once they’re outside. He looks up at the sky, the bright blue of it shaded only occasionally by a cloud or two. “I am getting hungry, what about you?”

“Could go for some food, yeah. Have an idea?”

“I was thinking we could pack some lunch and take a little hike.” He looks back down at the ground and twists his cane into the gravel of the road. “I should like to try again and make up for that, um, breakdown earlier.”

Newton smiles and reaches a hand out, lifting his chin. “Herms, babe, there’s nothing to make up for. But I would love to go on a hike and picnic with you. Hang on, I think I saw something in there about trails. Let me grab the pamphlet.” 

He waits until Hermann nods at him then ducks back into the Center and finds the walking trails map. “Here,” he says holding it out to Hermann. “I’ll drive us back to the cabin and you find a trail that looks good.”

Hermann gives him the keys and climbs into the passenger seat. He does flip through it, his finger mapping along different paths. “Found one that looks nice. So, with all your degrees, I bet you can point out a lot of interesting things out here, huh?”

“Well, give me a collection bin, strainer, and microscope and I can show you a whole lot.” He chuckles and pulls into the parking spot at the cabin. “But yeah, I can show you all types of fungi and I’m sure the lake has some great algae.”

They climb out of the car and head for the kitchen. Hermann actually pulls out a basket for their lunch, and they make some sandwiches together. Newton tosses in some of the leftover snacks from the gas station run much to Hermann’s grumbling. Soon they’re back outside, Hermann holding the map and Newton carrying their basket-lunch. They take the path back down to the lake but turn right this time and climb back through the forest along a trail that circled up along the lake. It was a trail that was clearly taken care of, though there were still a few pitfalls along the way. Newton twisted his ankle once, and clung to each other at a particularly narrow, rocky part. The trail ended up leading to a large, open meadow that had a view over the tops of the tree down to the lake. It was beautiful. 

“Here,” Hermann says pointing to a flat area. He pulled out a thin blanket and Newton helped him lay it out. 

Once they get everything laid out, Newton flops back on the blanket to look up at the sky. He tucks his arms under his head as he stretches in relaxation. Hermann is sitting next to him, his bad leg stretched out straight and the other triangled in a sort of half cross-legged position. He’s already digging into a sandwich, munching quietly. Newton reaches down and snags one of the bags of chips, stuffing a few in his mouth then returning his arm to it’s pillowed spot. 

“It’s really nice up here. I’m glad we came,” Hermann says after a few long minutes of quiet. 

“Me too.” Newton rolls his head to look over at him. “Perfect weekend for this kind of trip.”

Hermann nods. “Yes, I think we got lucky.”

Newt fishes out a sandwich for himself and chews at it as they fall back into happy contemplation. There’s a light breeze that keeps the meadow cool, especially at this altitude and Newt feels a little chilled in his t-shirt. He’s never minded the cold, though. Soon they’ve both had their fill and shift things around to get comfortable. Hermann tips to the side and rests his head on his hand, elbow perched on the ground holding him half up. Newt turns to so they can look at each other. 

“What happened earlier, Herms?” Newt doesn’t mean for the question to come out like that, so bluntly, but he wants to know. He wants to help.

Hermann’s face scrunches into thoughtful lines. “I...have had some past insecurities brought up recently. I let them get to me, that’s all.”

Fidgeting has always helped Newton, so he reaches for a blade of grass and tears it away from the ground, twirling it between his fingers. “You know, I think it’s bullshit. Whatever that person said to you. I know that I can talk ‘til I’m blue or whatever and it won’t make your issues magically go away, trust me I know, but I gotta say it anyway ‘cause I don’t know what  _ they _ saw but I know what I see. And it’s got nothing to do with what you’re paying me.” He’s almost scared to look up and see Hermann’s reaction.

He jaws at Newt, opening and closing his mouth a few times while he searches for some verbal reaction. His face is still scrunched in deliberation. “How are you always so sure of things?”

Newt snorted and shook his head, tossing the piece of grass and immediately plucking another one. “I’m not. I’m just comfortable around you. I’ve had a shit week, actually.”

“Care to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

Newt smiles at this while he finally meets Hermann’s eyes. “That’s fair. Let’s not talk about our issues then. Let’s talk about…” He cranes his neck, looking around the meadow. Then he juts the grass out toward Hermann making the man jerk his head back a touch and go cross eyed as he tries to focus on the small, green blade. “Science!”

“Is that how you work then? Thrust out a piece of the world and yell ‘science’ at it? I don’t see how you’ve gotten a degree with  _ that _ level of effort.” Hermann has that playful frown on his face now. It’s really growing on Newton, and each time he can draw it out of the man it feels like a bit of an accomplishment. 

Still grinning like a madman, Newton twirls the grass and then taps it against Hermann’s nose. He gets his hand swatted away in response. “Yep, just screaming into the void until it answers. Or hands me some new lifeform.”

Hermann shakes his head. “One day, you’re going to come into some office spewing some tale about how you were abducted by aliens. I just know it.”

“Oh, I’ll be the new ‘Aliens’ meme!” Newton laughs at Hermann’s confused look. “I’ll probably get rich from that. Or famous at least.”

“Infamous, more like.”

“Eh, same diff.”

Hermann shakes his head again and rolls onto his back, folding his hands over his middle. “I’ve thought about what you said regarding my current research. You’re right; I have some reworking to do.”

“Ooh, exciting!” Newton chews his lip a moment then scuttles over closer. “Is this okay?” He asks, gently draping an arm over Hermann’s hips and resting his head on the man’s shoulder. 

“Yes,” Hermann whispers.

“So, if you have some reworking to do and I have a paper to edit, would it be completely nerdy of us to have a few hours doing work?” Newton inhales deeply, taking in the warm scent of Hermann. It’s such a soothing smell, familiar in a way even though it shouldn’t be.

He feels Hermann shrug. “Perhaps, but I’d enjoy it.”

“Me too. But not too soon. This is nice.”

“It is,” Hermann says. He tips his head so he’s resting his chin on top of Newton’s head.

They spend most of the afternoon there, chatting and pointing out shapes in the clouds. At one point, Newton picks a bunch of flowers and tries to make a crown out of them. It fails but he still puts the mess of petals and stems on Hermann’s head. He even tolerates it a moment before shaking them away. They stroll around the grassy land and stare out at the lake, at the slowly setting sun. And when Newton finally gets cold, they pack up and start a slow walk back to the cabin. They’ve missed whatever other activities are hosted at the Center and neither of them care.

“We should finally get this fire going.” Newton is standing in the living room in a pair of sweats and another t-shirt, arms folded over his chest as he looks at the fireplace.

“That sounds nice, darling.” Hermann comes to stand next to him and their shoulders brush.

The picnic has helped. They’ve gotten back into the swing of things again, and there’s a closeness now that neither are willing to disturb. It’s as natural a feeling as dinner and dancing had been together. 

“Hey,” Newton says with a grin.

Hermann looks at him, clearly waiting for him to finish his thought. When Newt takes too long he lifts an eyebrow at him, urging him.

“Wanna make this whole thing like perfect cabin date night?”

Hermann’s lips pull tight and he eyes Newton warily. He’s leaned slightly into his own space now, but he hasn’t pulled back completley. “How do you mean?:”

“Start a fire, get some strawberries or whatever fresh fruit we packed, hot chocolate. Toss some pillows and blankets down and cuddle on it in front of the fire.” Newt extends his hands out, putting the currently empty floor on display. “We’ll stare into each other’s eyes and spill deep dark secrets no one else knows about us.”

“Mm,  _ most _ of that sounds fine.”

“What didn’t sound fine?” Newt demands, hands on his hips now.

Hermann just gives him a flat look. “You get the fire going, and I’ll get the fruit and hot chocolate ready.”

“Deal, but we’re doing everything on the list I said.” Newton hears Hermann wander off with mumbled argument, and he feels his chest tighten. This is nice. This is going to be a good night and he’s starting to really feel excited about it all.

Newton puts a couple pieces of wood into the fire place before he realizes he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s been around when a fire was started from scratch, but he’s never actually had a hand in it aside from a couple electric ones in nice hotels or rich people’s houses. He purses his lips and stares at the wood like it’s going to give him all the answers he needs.

“Newton darling, everything okay over there? You look perplexed.”

“Ha! Yeah, that’s word for it. Do you actually know how to start a fire?” Newton looks over at Hermann and sees him grimace.

“Er no. I mean I under the basics of what you’re supposed to do but I’ve never done it myself, no.” He’s holding a pot to put on the stove for the hot chocolate and doesn’t look like he wants to come around and partake in the confusion with the fireplace.

Newton can’t blame him. So, he nods and pulls out his phone. “If I set this place on fire, Shatter will refund you in full, I promise.” He swipes through google and gets a good idea of what to do. 

“I’d rather have the weekend not the money, so do be careful.” 

Sounds of Hermann’s competent productivity come from the kitchen inciting Newton to get this right. The whole night he’s proposed sort of revolves around getting this right. He pulls up instructions from some survivalist blog and follows the steps, using pages from a magazine in place of the newspaper they don’t have. He finds a stick lighter in one of the bags Hermann’s brought and actually gets it going. When the logs catch and start to crackle red, Newton leaps up with a fist pump and whoop of joy.

He hears Hermann laugh over in the kitchen and Newton pads over to him. He swings himself enthusiastically around the counter that separates the two rooms and wraps his arms around Hermann, hugging his back and flattening his hands over his chest. “I did it, Herms! First try!”

Hermann hums and pats at his hands. “Very good, Newton. Now I believe you have a pillow pile to attend to?” He turns his head to his shoulder so he can look down at Newton.

Newton looks up at him, so close now pressed together like this.He’d just have to go up on his tip-toes and their lips would touch. How simple and easy it would be to kiss Hermann now, to celebrate with a quick taste. Instead he pulls away and bounds back toward the living room. “Right, on it! This is going to be the best pillow pile you’ve ever seen, dude. Seriously, professional level pillow fort kinda thing.”

“I hardly think pillow forts can be considered professional.”

“Well you’d be surprised. There are competitions, Hermann. Seriously, I’ve seen them.” Newton’s voice is getting high again, that pitched-excitement he can’t help when he’s really enjoying himself or when he’s angry. This time it’s definitely the excitement. 

Hermann opens the fridge, rifling around in it when he answers so his voice is a little muffled. “Oh a date you were on for Shatter?”

That would have been fun. “No, something from college. Flyers were passed around so a few of us got hammered and went. It was actually pretty cool.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Newton thinks for a moment that Hermann was actually being rude, but when he looks over at him he finds Hermann smiling. “You seem the outgoing adventurous type, afterall. I spent most of my college days in the library, to no one’s surprise.”

Newton frowns. “No, I’m a bit surprised. You might be a little introverted, but you’re having fun here.”

“There aren’t a bunch of people here.” Hermann turns away now, back to the stove.

Realizing he’s falling behind in his duties, Newton finally sets about putting the pillows and blankets down. He makes a nice little nest in front of the fire and makes sure they’re back enough that he won’t make some blunder and set their nest on fire. When he is finally satisfied, Newton rejoins Hermann in the kitchen. 

“We did bring marshmallows right?” He’s not sure tonight is the best night for convincing Hermann to roast them, but he definitely wants some in his hot chocolate. And Hermann is making Hot Chocolate; he’s got the good chocolate melting in a pan and everything.

“I think so. Check the cupboard.” Hermann gestures with his spoon to the tall cupboard where they’ve stashed snacks and things. 

Newton went searching. He found a big bag of little marshmallows and another of big roasting marshmallows. “Perfect.” He snags the small ones and sets them by the mugs on the counter. He leans there and watches Hermann finishing up, staying close when he pours the chocolate and milk into the mugs. 

“Everything’s ready out there?”

Newton nods as he opens up the marshmallows and tosses in a bunch into his mug. “Want some?” He holds out a few to Hermann.

Hermann plucks them carefully from his hand and puts them in the chocolate just as delicately. They carry the mugs and a large plate of strawberries and raspberries out to the blankets. Hermann sets his things down on the hardwood floor nearest the fireplace and makes himself comfortable lounging on a portion of the pillows. 

Setting his mug next to Hermann’s, Newton surveys the set up. Hermann’s managed to take up nearly exactly half of the space. If this were any other date, Newt would likely press himself close to his date, letting them both sprawl across the nest and each other. But this is Hermann, the nicest guy he’s met and the one who’s been specific about the non-sexual element. Newton’s not sure what would cross into that category for him, so he takes a seat on the other half, leaning toward Hermann but not touching just yet. 

Newt wonders if he’ll be off base asking about Hermann’s past. He doesn’t want to touch on issues they’re both trying to avoid this weekend, but he doesn’t think Vanessa is a topic that’s off limits. Hermann had enjoyed talking about her the last time they were together. “Did you and Vanessa go cabin camping?”

“Mm, nearly. We always wanted to but work or other such silliness go in the way. We got so far as making a reservation.” He grabs their mugs, handing Newton his and taking a sip from his own.“I drove up first because she was finishing a photoshoot. Then an hour into her drive to meet me, a model got sick and they needed an emergency fill-in for a big paying gig.” Hermann chuckles. “She called nearly in tears, but I told her it was fine. Her firm would have been in a lot of trouble without her.”

Fishing a couple of the marshmallows out first, Newton chews the gooey things while he listens to Hermann. “That’s bad luck. Did you stay there by yourself?”

“No, I handed in the key, got a partial refund, and drove back home.” He reaches for the plate and plucks a strawberry from it, nibbling it slowly. “She came home all made up in this gold paint and makeup. Absolutely gorgeous. We spent the night, well. I’m sure you can imagine.”

Newton smirks. “Oh I definitely can.” He watches Hermann’s lips at the strawberry, the juice the bubbles up with his bites, staining his lips. Newt fights every urge in his body that drives him to lean in and lick the sweetness away.

When Hermann speaks next, his voice is cast low again. “I’m here now, though. And the company is just as good.” It’s the same rumble he had while asking Newton to fuck him, and Newt flashes back to that moment, to the growl of Hermann practically begging to be fucked.

Hermann’s got another strawberry in his fingers, but this time he reaches across the space and puts it to Newton’s lips, and Newt bites into it. “Newt darling?” Hermann’s voice is still deep but it’s a whisper now.

“Mm,” is all he can manage as he eats the fruit from Hermann’s fucking long fingers. He’s never tasted anything so sweet. 

“I don’t think I can keep my word.”

It’s hard to breathe, Newt finds. “Your word?”

Hermann nods slowly and withdraws his fingers once Newton’s finished. He traces the tips of his fingers over his own lips, his tongue darts out to lick away the stray juice. “If we stay here like this, I’ll want something more.”

“More.” Newton’s brain is sluggish now as fire hits his gut watching Hermann’s fingers at his mouth. He wants to eat from his hands again. He wants to lick his skin clean. “You mean…” He blinks and the heat from Hermann’s eyes makes sense. “Oh. I, that’s, I’m staying right here.”

Their eyes have locked and it’s like electricity is running through that connection. Newton’s whole body is intensely aware of everything. Hermann takes a drink of his chocolate and crawls forward, into Newton’s space. He cups Newton’s cheek and presses their lips together. Newt tilts his head, opens his mouth, and then Hermann’s tongue is on his, rich with chocolate. If the strawberry had been good, this is bliss. 

Without having to ask for it, Hermann has another berry in his fingers. He pulls back from the kiss and puts it to Newton’s lips. Newt eats obediently, and grabs Hermann’s wrist before he can take his hand away this time. Newton curls his tongue around his fingers, sucks down their length, and doesn’t look away from him. He groans at the taste, at the feel of them pressing against his tongue, gliding back to his throat.

“Fuck, Herms, I want to taste you.”

Hermann chuckles. “You are.”

“No, more of you. Can I?” He’s panting as he asks, ready to beg if he needs to.

A flush brightens Hermann’s cheeks and he nods. “Okay.”

Moving carefully around their things, Newton helps Hermann lie back on the pillows. He remembers how nervous Hermann was when they got undressed the first time, and he watches his face now as he goes for the button and zipper on the jeans. Hermann seems more comfortable this time, so Newton carefully shimmies his jeans and briefs down his legs. For his part, Hermann is pulling off his sweater, and soon he’s stretched pale and naked on the blankets. 

“I swear babe, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Newton has frozen there, his gaze wandering up and down the planes of Hermann’s body. “If I could actually produce anything worthwhile artistically, I would paint this picture into eternity.”

Hermann gasps, thin lips parting and eyes going half-mast. He looks blissed out already. “You’re not going to stay covered, are you?” The tips of his ears burn red.

Newton grins and yanks his t-shirt off, tossing it on the pile of Hermann’s clothes. He struggles out of his jeans and boxers, too, then crawls up the length of Hermann’s body to capture his lips in a kiss. Hermann wraps his arms around Newton’s neck, holding him close and deepening the kiss. They explore each other slowly, tongue curling together in the mix of strawberry and chocolate. Bodies bare, the press of warm skin on skin is as warm as the crackling fire next to them. 

Feeling the hard length of Hermann’s erecting dig into the fold of Newt’s hip has him craving a taste again. He breaks the kiss, smiles down at Hermann whose pupils are blown wide, and slides down his body. He trails his lips and tongue along all of those beautiful angles that make up Hermann’s body, and the man’s hands tangle in Newt’s hair before he’s even gotten to his navel.

Newt dips to one side, nibbling gently at the protruding hipbones, particularly careful with the left one. Hermann is groaning above him, words Newton can’t understand tumbling out with the noises. Then he chases a heady scent to Hermann’s cock, heavy and waiting for him. Newt wraps his fingers around the base of it and licks across the slit, licking up a bead of precum. He licks again, circle the head before wrapping his lips around him and sinking down slowly on his length. He pressed his tongue along the backside as he goes down, then hollows his cheeks and sucking as he pulls back up. He tastes as perfect as Newt thought he would.

“Oh fuck, yes Newton, mm darling that’s so nice,” Hermann coos from above. His fingers are tight in Newt’s hair and his hips are tense with holding back from thrusting. 

Newton wants him to lose that control, wants Hermann to thrust into his throat. So he squeezes his hand as he slowly goes back down on him. When the head of his cock hits the back of his throat, Newton drops his hand down to cup Hermann’s balls and relaxes his throat. He takes him all the way down, burying his nose against Hermann’s skin. As he sucks his way back up his length, Newt flicks a finger over Hermann’s perineum and rolls his balls gently. Hermann cries out and his hips stutter up just slightly.

“Darling,” he pants. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

Newt pulls off enough to speak, flicking his tongue over the head before he does. “Don’t hold back then. You can fuck my throat, babe.”

“I-oh. O-okay.” Hermann flexes his fingers in Newton’s hair and Newt groans at that.

“Tug harder if you want, too. I’m really not delicate with this.”

Newton smiles to himself before taking Hermann down to the hilt again. It’s a bit more of struggle this time since he didn’t take it slowly, but it’s worth it to feel Hermann’s hips jerk up, to feel his hands tighten in his hair, and to hear him cry out a jumble of vowels that don’t actually make up any words. Newt works his tongue up and around his shaft, gliding along the veins and pressing tightly as he sucks Hermann. And Hermann listens, thrusting in time with Newton’s bobbing head.

He can feel Hermann getting close, feels the heavy tightness in his balls as he cups them in his hand. When Hermann tugs at his hair, trying to pull him off, Newton makes eye contact with him and purposefully sinks down further on his cock. He wanted to taste everything Hermann had to give him. 

“Newton!” Hermann moans as he cums hot down Newt’s throat. 

Newt swallows the warm seed and moans around Hermann’s cock. He gently pumps him through the orgasm, pulling away as he starts to go soft. And Hermann is tugging at him again, trying to get him up to his lips again.

Hermann swirls his tongue into Newt’s mouth once he’s cuddled up to him again. Newt knows he has to be able to taste himself there, and the groan he lets out makes Newt’s dick jump. He feels close to cumming himself and he hasn’t even been touched yet. Hermann keeps kissing him, but one of his hands is wandering lower, tracing over his sides, gripping at his ass.

“Can I...touch you, darling? I’d like to um,” he clears his throat.

Newt smiles against his mouth, kisses him then pulls back. “Would like to?”

Hermann drops his eyes to Newt’s chin. “I should like to finger you if that’s okay.”

“Oh shit, that’s more than okay. You have amazing hands, and I’d love to feel them inside me.” Newton’s stomach gets taut at the thought of that. “We should probably get lube for that, if you can last me running off to grab some real quick.”

“You brought lube?” Hermann’s eyes go wide.

“Uuhh, yeah I always have lube and condoms, just in case.” Newton sits up slowly and rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to assume since you said you didn’t want anything but I’ve just learned to come prepared.”

Hermann snorts and shakes his head. “Well thank goodness for that. Now go. I really want to be inside of you.”

“Fuck,” Newton groans and scrambles to his feet. He barely misses knocking over their mugs in his haste. He thinks he hears Hermann moving things out of the way as he jogs for the bedroom, his cock bobbing ridiculously with the movement. He’s glad Hermann can’t see that. 

Nabbing the small bottle of lube from his bag, Newton hurries back and hesitates. “How um, how do you want me?”

“Next to me, on your back. Is that okay?”

Newt nods furiously. “Yeah, that’s good.” He sinks down and hands the lube over. 

Pulling a pillow behind his head, he watches Hermann pop the top and slick his fingers up. Then he stretches long Newt’s side and grabs the leg closest to him, tossing it over his legs in a way that opens Newt up. Hermann is able to reach around his thigh now and drag his fingers across Newton’s hole. In this position, Hermann’s face is right there by Newt’s and they press their mouths together again. It’s like Hermann can’t get enough of tasting him, and Newt is completely on board with this.

Then Hermann slides a finger inside of Newt, and it’s not near enough. Just a slight pressure then a tickling slide, in and out. On the fourth slide in, Hermann adds another finger. He pushes in and spreads his fingers as he does, pushing against the tight muscle and making Newt’s stomach tense.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Newt hums. 

Hermann curls his fingers and drags them back down, nearly all the way out of Newt and he circles the ring of muscle there. It sends a shock of pleasure through Newton and he feels himself starting to shake at the feeling. Sinking back in, Hermann spreads then twists his fingers. He twists again and presses up, hitting Newton’s prostate so suddenly that Newt cries out.

“Oh yes, fuck, holy shit, Herms that’s good, that’s so good. Oh my god,” he babbles as Hermann twists and fucks his fingers inside of Newton. He’s never felt anything this good before. He’s never had this sort of determined focus on him like this, not with someone fingers  _ inside him _ . 

Pulling out, Hermann adds a third finger and dives as deep as his fucking long fingers will go, running along the walls of Newton’s body in a desperate seeking of the prostate. And when he hits it, Newton cums. Hermann hasn’t even touched his dick, and Newton loses all sense of himself. Hermann doesn’t doesn’t finger fucking him either. He pushes him to the edges of sanity and further. Newton is absolutely writhing when Hermann finally pulls his fingers out of him. 

“Shh darling, you were perfect. You did so well,” Hermann says softly in his ear. He kisses at the lobe and it’s something for Newton to focus on, to find his way back from the exploding fireworks in his brain. “Take a couple deep breaths, Newt.”

The words are there in his head, and he knows they mean something but it takes a few more moments of being lost for them to make sense. Newt drags in a deep breath and holds it, then lets it out as slowly as he can manage. It gets easier each time and Hermann is there in his ear the whole time. 

“Holy fuck, Hermann Gottlieb. What the hell was that?”

Hermann retracts a moment. “I’m sorry--”

“No, that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.” Newt leans up and captures Hermann’s lips. He drops back down and takes another few breaths. “Seriously, where did you learn how to do that?”

Cheeks red, Hermann clears his throat and drops down to nuzzle at Newton’s neck. “Practice on myself.”

“Well congratu-fucking-lations, you’re amazing.” 

Newton wraps an arm around Hermann and keeps him close. The fire is still going and it’s warm after everything. They cuddle closer, loosing one of the blankets to wrap around themselves at some point. And in their slightly sweaty mess, they both drift off. They’re both going to regret that decision in the morning, but neither cares in the blissed out state they fall asleep in.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This...got away from me you guys. It's long and full of so much sex. Do I apologize for all the sex? Eh, it's rated Explicit. So, um, enjoy this very intimate chapter.

There’s a sharp pain in Hermann’s hip that wakes him before the sun comes up. He’s still tangled in Newton’s arms, and he can feel the sweat and slick from their night together on his still-naked body. It’s...the oddest mix of discomfort and bliss he’s ever felt. The fire is down to smoldering embers in the fireplace which casts a weird, slightly red haze through the room. As he lies there, his eyes start to adjust and shapes start to take form. Newton’s body pressed against his, the barest tinges of light through the window as dawn slowly approaches.

Wanting just a moment longer in the bliss of the cuddles, Hermann snuffles his nose into Newton’s tousled hair. It smells of shampoo and sweat, a rather tangy mixture. He traces his fingers down along the colorful skin, following the outlines of monsters and sea creatures as well as he can in the low light. He’s nearly forgotten how sore his hip is. 

Last night wasn’t supposed to happen. Hermann had put his mind to nothing sexual, but with Newton, his self-restraint is disastrous. Especially after yesterday. Newton was, yet again, perfect. Even Hermann’s freakout didn’t turn the man away from him. And as much as Hermann wants to push the idea that it’s because he’s being paid, Newton keeps insisting it’s more than that. But how can it be? Hermann is literally paying him for this weekend, for this ‘relationship’, and it’s a profession Newton has insisted he really enjoys because of how he can help people like Hermann. This is just Newton helping.

Another sharp ache runs from Hermann’s hip down his leg, and he stiffens in pain. It brings back the reminder of what else is uncomfortable this morning. Newton’s dried cum smeared on both of their bellies, the mess on Hermann's fingers and both of their cocks. Newton has been an amazing sexual partner too, and that only adds to the confusion Hermann is going through. He needs to get up, get some space, and put his head back on right. 

Shifting as carefully as he can, Hermann extracts himself from Newton’s arms. The man grumbles at him but just pulls the blanket closer and lets out a sigh. Hermann pauses looking down at him. He’s fucking gorgeous, and their little talk about painting yesterday has given Hermann some ideas. Maybe he’ll get the courage to ask before the weekend is over.

Grabbing his cane, Hermann walks to the bedroom and straight into the bathroom. He's shivering in the colder back area of the cabin, the warmth of their fire not reaching this far, and the fire died out now besides. 

There are grab bars on one side of the shower. He hadn't even thought to get a handicap accessible cabin, so it's a pleasant surprise. And thinking back, the front porch had a small ramp at one end. Sure, the world has a long way to go before it's really accessible to everyone, but just maybe Hermann's entire life isn't as on-hold as he originally thought.

He turns the water on and keeps a hand beneath as it heats. Once there is even the slightest warmth to it, Hermann steps beneath and groans at the feel of it. His muscles start to relax in the heat, relieving the ache down his leg. He sighs, closing his eyes and ducking his face under the spray. 

A sound at the door draws his attention, and he peers through the fogged glass as a shape stands in the now open doorway of the bathroom.

"Hey Herms, hope you don't mind but I really, really have to pee…" 

Newton sounds so hesitant. And this is certainly a boundary of some sort, a threshold in any friendship or relationship. Using the bathroom together. 

"It's quite alright. We only have one bathroom, after all." And Hermann tries desperately not to pay attention to the figure coming in, to the sound of him relieving his bladder. It's such an odd, specifically domestic-relationship sort of experience that he's only ever experienced with Vanessa. So much for space to get his head on right.

"Hey babe?" Newton's voice sounds near the shower door now. "Would it be presumptuous of me to ask to join you in there?"

Hermann's throat tightens and he feels blood rush to his dick at the thought. "I, er. No, you can join me." His cheeks are flushing, he just knows it. Perhaps it blends with how his skin pinkens in the hot water. "I keep the water rather hot, so you know."

"Perfect." Newton slides the door open and steps in with a sleepy smile on his face. He really doesn't look like he's wanted to be awake yet.

"I'm sorry I keep waking you early," Hermann says, reaching a hand out and brushing the hair back from his forehead. "Here, step into the water, hmm.” He guides Newton into the spray, using hands on the man’s shoulders to help himself step around with slipping. 

Newton moves with him easily, and leans his head back to let the water wash over his head, down his face and shoulders. His eyes are closed and he has a sleepy smile curling along his lips. “Thanks babe.” He scrubs his hands through his hair, flinging water droplets all over.

Hermann blinks the water from his eyes and feels drawn closer to Newton. He wants to touch him, to feel the smooth slide of skin under his palms, and trace along the artwork now that he can properly see the tattoo outlines. The close space, the heat and the wet, press in all around creating a sense of being alone and cut off from the noises of the world. Cut off from the troubles that lay out beyond this space. They have nothing else to worry about, to think about, except for each other in this moment, and Hermann wants all of that. 

His hands reach out tentatively, and when his fingers touch down on Newton’s chest, the man’s eyes snap open. He smiles more openly now and leans slightly forward to press into the touch. “Hey,” he says in a dopey voice.

Hermann chuckles. “Hello.” 

And then Newton’s hands are on his hips, pulling him into the water and a kiss. It’s a hesitant touch of the lips, a question sitting between them that Hermann answers by deepening it. He closes his eyes and runs his tongue along Newton’s bottom lip, nips at the soft flesh of it, drawing a keening sound from him. Their bodies draw nearer, bare skin pressing in at every angle. Hermann feels Newt delve into his mouth now, tongue running along Hermann’s and there’s still a hint of chocolate and fruit from last night. 

Between one breath and the next, Hermann is pushed up against the shower wall with Newton pressing a thigh between his legs, against his steadily hardening erection. He gasps against Newton’s lips and grinds against the proffered leg. “Darling, I don’t know if I can--” He wraps a hand around the grab bars next to him.

His words are cut off when Newton hauls him up, guiding one of his legs around Newton’s hips. “How’s that?” he asks, shifting them both to make sure he has a good hold on Hermann.

It’s comfortable, and Hermann has lost his breath for a moment. He lets go of the bar and wraps his arms around Newton’s neck and inhales sharply, getting his air back. “Good, it’s good.”

Newton smiles and presses close again, their lips dancing once more. Then one of his hands leaves Hermann’s thighs, fingers touching down where lips once were. Newton slowly slides his fingers inside his mouth, and Hermann takes them, sucking and licking at them. This seems to make Newt happy as he presses the pads of his fingers along Hermann’s tongue. “Good, need to be nice and wet. Can I fuck you like this, Herms? Against the wall here?”

“Yes. Please, darling yes.” Hermann’s cock twitches between them and he arches, seeking out some friction. He groans as he manages to drag his cock against Newton’s belly, feeling a shivering heat run down his spine. "Condoms," Hermann chokes out from his haze and they both freeze.

Newton chews his bottom lip and looks up at Hermann through his lashes. "I am tested regularly, never gone without before. If you're...I mean."

"I'm clean. Haven't been with anyone besides you since Vanessa." Hermann huffs and clings tighter, not wanting to let go of the man for even a second. "If you want, this--this is okay."

With a nod, Newton pushes his fingers back in Hermann’s mouth and slicks them up. Then he drags them back out, covered in saliva and avoiding the spray of the shower to reach down behind Hermann. He runs the slick along his ass. He presses into him, two fingers slowly fucking him open and dragging the saliva inside. Hermann can feel himself stretching open to the shiver-inducing fingers. Clinging to him, pressed against the wall, everything feels altogether  _ too much  _ and  _ not enough _ . He whines, a sound caught at the back of his throat as he squirms on Newton’s fingers. How the man can hold him up like this and do the things he’s doing is absolutely mind-blowing. 

Hermann’s head thunks back against the tile of the shower walls and Newton’s mouth finds the exposed neck immediately. He nips at the tender flesh there, the pricks of his teeth sending tendrils of heat through Hermann making him whine again.

When Newton extracts his fingers leaving Hermann utterly empty, his eyes fly open to look at him. He's panting as Newton just grins at him, all traces of his early tiredness faded and given way to lust-blown pupils. "You're gorgeous, Newt."

"So are you, babe. Just amazing like this." He grabs Hermann's hips, shifting him and now Hermann feels the head of his erection at his entrance.

Hermann relaxes as Newton rocks his hips up and slowly presses inside. He's thick, stretching Hermann in the best way. He feels full, and shudders as pleasure dances it way through the sensitive nerves in his body. And when Newt bottoms out, the head of his dick grinds right along Hermann's prostate making him groan and bury his face in Newton's shoulder. He closes his eyes as the shower spray hits him, but doesn't draw back. He wants to be right there, tucked into Newton's neck and warm skin.

As Newton starts a gentle rolling of his hips, dragging partially in and out, Hermann feels his body tighten and relax with the easy pace. They fuck slow together. Hermann drops a hand down to help hold them upright by the grab bars and he's never been so happy they exist.

Their orgasms build as slowly as they fuck, and the water is turning cold by the time Hermann feels his balls tighten and his body is pushing him over the edge of ecstacy. The way Newton's hips stutter in their rhythm, he knows they're both going to climax together. And perhaps they both realize this at the same time, because all at once, they cry out each other's names and cum. Hermann feels Newton release inside of him, filling him with warmth as he paints Newton's stomach.

Newton is careful pulling out and setting Hermann on his feet. They both take care not to slip, holding the bar and each other. 

"That was awesome," Newton wheezes.

Hermann looks down at his legs and sees his thighs twitching and quivering from all the lifting and thrusting. "You're an absolute marvel. I can't believe you held me up and fucked me that long."

Looking around for the soap and washcloth he has placed in the shower, Hermann finds them and soaps it up, intent on cleaning Newton. He turns back around to find the man leaning on the wall, eyes closed and just breathing. Not wanting to spook him, Hermann hums a noise and asks, "Can I wash you up?"

Newton nods his head and stays leant against the wall. Stepping close, Hermann gently runs the soapy washcloth over Newton's chest, down his abs, wiping away the cum from the tattoos. The artwork really is beautiful and it's nice to be able to see it in the light now. It's a riot of color he's slowly wiping clean. He wrings out and resoaps the cloth a few times as he works his way over every inch of Newton, and for his part, Newton moves each limb accordingly. It's like dancing again, where he reacts to the barest touch, and Hermann loves him for it, for the way they just fit.

In a breath, Hermann has to fight down a broken noise, thankful Newton is keeping his eyes closed through all of this. He cannot fall in love with Newton and leave him at the end of this.

"Hey," Newt says amidst the panic. "My turn. Cloth?"

Hermann hands it over and shivers at the feeling of Newton washing him. There's more to the touch in this than in the sex, more emotion and care to each touch like Newton is mapping the planes of his body into his memory. Each swipe of the cloth is purposeful, slow, and exact.

This is scrutiny in the most amazing sense; someone getting to know every part of his body, every flaw, and reveling in it as perfect. The threat of tears prick at his eyes and Hermann fights the feeling. One break down is enough for the weekend, thank you very much! 

Newton finishes, spraying away the last of the soap, and they stand there just looking at one another for a moment. Where do they go from here? Stepping out of the shower will break that feeling of  _ alone, away from the world _ . It may break this emotional connection they've fallen to so naturally.

Even scarier than that, Hermann thinks, it may not change anything at all.

Breaking the gaze, Hermann reaches around Newton and cuts the tap off. They're unspeaking, but it's comfortable. There's a sense of basking in the afterglow, and they find they move well together again, maneuvering around the bathroom and each other to dry up, brush teeth and hair, and whatever else their routines call for.

Soon, they're dressed and standing chest to chest in the bedroom. Hermann is drawn to Newt immediately, wanting to feel his lips one more time this morning, and Newt is on the same page. Wrapped together in the light of the morning finally pouring through their bedroom window, Hermann kisses Newton in the same long, slow fashion that they've just fucked. This is their weekend, no need to rush off anywhere. No need to meet other's demands. And right now, they both want to feel the other.

Whatever resolves Hermann had about keeping things professional is gone.

“Hey,” Newton whispers against his lips. “You ready for some breakfast?”

Hermann can only nod. He lets Newton lead him out to the main area of the cabin and direct him to a stool at the counter. Once sat, Hermann watches Newton dance around the kitchen, pulling together eggs and toast. He even puts the kettle on and Hermann could cry. It’s all perfect. “Newt, darling, you’re an absolute marvel.”

Turning around with a big grin on his face, Newton says, “Thanks! I take a lot of pride in my pampering skills. I don’t think I’ve fully employed them here yet but we still have two days.”

How much better can Newton be to him today and tomorrow? Perhaps his expectations of people are a bit low and he shouldn’t feel so surprised at this, but Hermann is taken by Newt’s attentions. “And what about my pampering you? I do believe I started this out demanding you have a good weekend, too.”

“Ha!” Newton spins back around to tend to the eggs but gestures between flipping them in the pan. “I  _ am _ having a good weekend. Seriously after--” 

He sort of chokes on his words a moment and Hermann sees something there, something just below the surface that he’d noticed yesterday too when Newton had brought up this weekend being his first job in a week or so. He sees Newton’s back tense, his shoulders bunching toward his ears. Suddenly, Hermann wants to envelope him in a hug, but he’s not quite sure what the problem is.

Newton tries to pass over it as he continues. “It’s a nice escape from things for a while, isn’t it?” He’s very focused on the food now, his gestures diminished. “Nothing to worry about beyond having a nice time.”

“Mm, right.” Hermann feels his face narrowed in concern, contemplating each movement Newton makes to see if he can infer the issue. His stomach clenches as thoughts and possibilities race through his mind. “Newton?”

“Yeah?” He still doesn’t turn, likely hearing the seriousness in Hermann’s voice.

“Er, I was just…” But he can’t bring himself to ask, to intrude where he’s not sure he’s welcome. They’re not dating and perhaps it’s not his place. “Anything I can do to help this morning?”

And the moment passes. Newton spins around and points the spatula at him. “Absolutely not! You just sit there looking handsome, and then we’ll curl on the couch together and eat.”

Hermann snorts. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Newton grabs plates and puts their breakfast together. “What did you want to do today? They have massages and whatever that couple’s class thing is those people mentioned yesterday.”

Hermann frowns as he takes his plate. “You think we should go to a couple’s class?”

Newton shrugs. “On second thought…”

They sit on the couch together, Hermann with his tea and Newton his coffee, and eat while they discuss plans. “I’m not sure I would like the massage,” Hermann says quietly.

“Okay, no big. How about going out on the lake? There’s gotta be a canoe or rowboat somewhere, right?”

“I thought that was advertised in the pamphlet, yes. Behind the cabin maybe?”

Newton nods. “Let’s find out.” He takes their empty plates and deposits them in the sink to be handled later. For now, they have a boat to find. Newt grabs a sweatshirt and Hermann slips into a sweater before they go out to look around.

Behind the cabin there  _ is _ a canoe. It’s wide, plastic, and bright orange likely to make it easier to find any of the vacationers who go missing after accidents. And that is a worry that Hermann doesn’t need running through his mind. But suddenly he is wondering, if he and Newton got into an accident or got lost in these woods, would they survive? He doesn’t think the probability is high for himself, but having a biologist (and the five other things he is) along might help the chances.

“Herms, you got that thinking face again,” Newt says and he bends down and tests how heavy the canoe is.

“If we were to capsize and got lost in the forest, would you know how to survive?” Hermann asks and reaches down to see if he can lift one side while holding his cane. It’s surprisingly light.

Over one side of the canoe that they lift, Hermann sees Newton’s eyes bulge in surprise. “Uuh, maybe? Why,” his voice pitches up in that adorable alto-nearing-soprano tone he sometimes gets when they argue, “would you say that? Or think it? Dude, if we got lost out here, I am a hundred percent blaming you.”

“Blaming me?” Hermann shuffles along, fingers gripping the edges of the canoe as they work their way down the path. 

“Mhm,” Newton says with a grunt as he goes backwards on the shore and keeps casting a glance over his shoulder as they draw near the water. “You brought it up, so you’ve invoked the bad luck and ultimately our demise.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Hermann sets his end of the canoe down before Newton can walk himself right into the lake. “You can’t invoke bad luck. There isn’t such a thing as luck at all.”

They both move without talking about, setting the canoe in the water and helping each other climb on. It holds steady.

“There is too!” Newton argues, but he doesn’t provide any proof.

Hermann raises an eyebrow at him, they pause to stare at each other, and Newton continues to use pursed lips as his only argument. “You’re ridiculous,” Hermann repeats. As they grab paddles, Hermann finds himself surprised at being in the canoe safely and so quickly. They haven’t fumbled even once.

“So who would you blame, then?”

Hermann sighs and makes sure his cane is stashed safely where it won’t get wet. He pushes them out from shore with the paddle and as they float out onto the lake, a chilling wind picks up. Still, wrapped in a sweater, Hermann doesn’t mind it. And Newton seems back to his usual, chipper self. So much so that Hermann wonders if he’s just imagined seeing something wrong with him earlier.

“Well, it depends on who’s at fault.” They paddle until they’re in a deeper part and able to drift easily. “If you gesture too wildly and our canoe tips, I shall blame you, of course.”

Newton nods. “And if you steer us into a log or a rock?”

“I’ll blame myself then I suppose,” Hermann answers with a harumph of a noise. He’s not going to steer them into anything. Not accidentally at least.

“And what if a bolt of lightning shoots out of the sky and sinks our canoe?”

“Newton!” Hermann shakes his head at the man. 

“It could happen. It has, even on a clear day. Just out of nowhere, bam! The mysteries of the universe, Herms.” Newton has gathered their paddles and he sets them down at his feet then shifts so they’re sitting closer now, putting their weight in the middle of the canoe. “You never know what’ll happen, and some of it is just luck of the draw.”

“Perhaps, but there’s still science behind what happens. Everything can be explained.”

Newton seems to concede to this because he falls silent with a smile. He lounges in the canoe, a hand drifting over to Hermann’s leg so his fingers can trace patterns over his thigh. Each change of direction his fingertips make sends a little tingle through Hermann and he hums his contentment, letting his head fall back so his face is soaking up the sunlight of the early morning. As the sun climbs, the two relax.

“Your paper,” Hermann chances. “Perhaps this afternoon we can do some work together? I’d like to look at your work, and I admit I have two students’ assignments I must attend to at some point.”

“Hermann, you brought work on vacation?” He grins and squeezes his thigh. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

They’ve spent enough time together, and Hermann knows anyone who is with him long enough knows that he takes work everywhere. Whether it’s from procrastinating with his students or needing to put finer detail to his own studies, Hermann doesn’t stray far from his work. “Is that a problem?” He tries to keep his voice steady but feels it shake with nerves; this could prove to be an issue to some.

But Newton just shakes his head. “Not at all. I brought my work along too, didn’t I?”

“This weekend  _ is _ your work.”

Newton flaps a hand and goes back to tracing some invisible design on Hermann’s leg. “That’s different. This is relaxing, but I brought homework along.”

“Fair point.” 

The sun glints off Newton’s hair, a messy tumble of locks that are nearly dry from their shower now. Hermann tentatively reaches over to thread his fingers through it. He’s already gone back on his stance regarding sex, so the typical intimate parts of a date weekend seem suddenly wide open. The first day, Hermann had tried to avoid some of the more romantic gestures in an attempt to keep from feeling his growing desire for Newton. Now…

Well, Newton leans into the touch, stretching out on their wide canoe to rest his head on Hermann’s lap. The orange plastic thing tilts back and forth and Hermann’s heart catches in his throat for a moment until they settle once more, his hands grappling for the edges to help steady it. What with all Newton’t talk of bad luck, he’s starting to think they just  _ might _ find themselves in the water before the end of this adventure.

Newton’s chuckling as the canoe settles. “Close call that time.”

Hermann tangles a hand back in his hair and tugs lightly. “It looks like I’ll be blaming you.” He smooths his fingers through his hair now, soothing whatever hurt he might have caused.

Newton nuzzles back into his touch and Hermann settles again, the rocking of the boat on the water a calming motion. “You know,” Newton says, “I haven’t been out of the city in years. Not like this, not more than passing through. I think the last time I was really out was when I went into the field for research, so yeah, two years ago.” He chuckles. “I should have brought some equipment.”

Without thinking, Hermann shrugs, runs his fingers through Newton’s hair down to his cheek to cup it and says, “We’ll have to lug it all along for you next time, I suppose.”

They’ve both heard it. They both know what the implication is, and he can feel Newton tense against his leg. That was a mistake, one he thinks he should fix but he doesn’t know how. Hermann’s been taking this further and further from professional and Newton has ridden along with it the entire time.

As he stutters through thoughts and words to make things better, Newton suddenly sits up. “How cold can the water really be?” He juts a hand into the water and splashes at it, enough that some droplets hit Hermann’s cheek.

He wipes it away and knocks the back of his hand into Newton’s shoulder. “You’re going to fall in if you lean too far.”

Newton looks around, and then turns a big grin to Hermann. “You know, we’re alone out here. I don’t even see a cabin on the shore over here.”

Hermann’s mind races trying to figure out where Newton is going with this train of thought. It’s away from what Hermann has insinuated, so wherever it goes is better than that at least. “Yes,” he draws out the word hesitantly. “Yes, we are. What of it?”

“Well, the water isn’t  _ that _ cold.” He raises one eyebrow high over the thick rims of his glasses. “We could…” He wiggles his shoulders and brings a hand to the zipper of his sweatshirt, unzipping it. “Ever been skinny dipping?”

“Do I look like someone who’s been skinny dipping?” A shudder goes through him as he contemplates actually doing this with Newton. He looks around and confirms they  _ are  _ alone. The canoe has drifted to a sort of alcove in the lake and there doesn’t seem to be a cabin in this area. “You’re not serious, are you? It’s freezing out! It can’t more than mid sixties.”

“Right, but it’s a big lake. They’re usually pretty warm if they’re deep enough.” Newton sticks his arm in again and splashes around a bit, this time purposefully slinging some droplets toward Hermann. “Come on, you only live once, right?”

And that’s something isn’t it? If Hermann had been afraid of limitations, of missing out, then what’s stopping him from doing this now? He only lives once and he’s not about to stand in his own way of doing something worth remembering later. With a deep breath and in a fit of courage, stiff-backed Hermann Gottlieb starts to pull his sweater over his head, to work the buttons of his shirt undone. There are no limitations here for him, nothing that can stop him from getting into this freezing cold lake with Newton and just  _ experience _ this moment with the man.

Newton’s face breaks out into a grin, and he gets to work stripping down as well. Neither of them have really thought about how difficult it will be to take off their pants and underwear on a canoe, but they both quickly find out. Hermann flails his long limbs a few times to steady the craft as Newton flops less than elegantly with his trousers about his ankles, and the image puts Hermann somewhere between a scowl and a laugh. 

“Stop laughing and help me!” Newton demands, sticking his legs out toward Hermann and flopping his feet a bit. “Pull these off me.”

This time, Hermann really is laughing as he yanks the pants off Newton who falls back and grips at the edges of the canoe like his life depends on it. The thing is rocking so much, Hermann’s surprised it hasn’t capsized yet.  _ Lucky, _ he thinks in a scoffing tone. Of course, he’ll never admit that though out loud. “There, now if you would be so kind as to assist me?”

Newton’s gentler about it than Hermann had been, and soon they’re both naked. On a canoe. In a lake. Hermann wraps his arms about himself and just looks at Newton, waiting for him to make the first move. It was  _ his idea _ after all. Now, the once boisterous man looks a bit hesitant, but Hermann has found determination. He hasn’t stripped down in the open for nothing. 

“Come on, darling. I can’t be that cold.” Hermann gives him a teasing grin, stretching a leg out to poke at Newton’s thigh with his toes. “Jump in and tell us how it is.”

“Oh, after you babe. Beauty before brains.”

“You’re the brains in this?”

“How many PhDs do  _ you  _ have?” Newton smirks.

“Enough,” retorts Hermann before grabbing the edge of the canoe and launching off the side of it. He feels the whole thing shake as he leaves it and hopes it doesn’t roll. He doesn’t want to lose his cane to the bottom of a lake all for his own petulance. 

The water is freezing It’s so cold that Hermann’s breath sticks in his chest and as he breaches the surface and sucks in a lungful of air, he’s sort of forgotten how to swim. It’s there, the knowledge, just below the screaming of ‘cold, cold, too cold’ and he grips for it. Then his arms push out, his legs kick, and his mind works through the initial shock. “Fuck, Newt, this is freezing!”

Newton’s just sat on the boat still, gawking at him with owl eyes and a dropped jaw. He breaks with a laugh and then puts his glasses aside and jumps in as well. When he comes up sputtering, hands moving in panicked attempts to swim, Hermann reaches out for him and guides his hands to the canoe.

“This,” Newt says with chattering teeth. “Was a bad idea.”

“The absolute worst, yes,” Hermann grumbles. But instead of pulling himself back on the canoe, he swoops his arms and leans back. The water is cold, but the longer he stays in it, the more he’s adjusting. If he just keeps moving, it’s actually not so bad. “Come, move around a bit so you don’t freeze.”

Newton doggy paddles his way over to Hermann and their canoe floats gently next to them. Hermann glances down and the lake is clear enough that he can see his body down to his toes, mostly. His legs are gently kicking back and forth and when Newton draws close to him, their legs nearly tangle together, soft brushes as they keep themselves afloat. 

“So, Newt. Have  _ you _ skinny dipped before this?”

With a snort that turns to a grin, Newton nods. “Yeah, this big fountain at college. And a pond where I grew up. Used to have high school parties out there and I was the kid dumb enough to take the dare.”

Hermann frowns and huffs a laugh. “I can picture that.” And his cheeks flush as he  _ does _ picture a naked Newt running around a college fountain. “You’re quite adventurous, aren’t you?”

Newton shrugs, water rippling from his colorful shoulders. “I guess so. Just, one time to go at all this, right? So why not try things. If I said no too often, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Well, that’s something. Hermann blinks and feels his face slide into some soft expression of thought. “Right.” His voice sounds soft and he feels the cold of the water creeping back in. He kicks his legs and swims out, needing more movement. “The canoe is drifting,” he says and swims towards it.

He hears the splash of Newton following after him, and they grab the thing pulling it back into their alcove. The movement does help, a bit of warmth running through Hermann’s muscles.

“Swimming must be good for your hip and leg.” Newton’s tone is so casual, conversational. Again, there’s a distinct lack of judgement that Hermann appreciates.

“It is actually. I suppose I should do more of it, but I find myself…” He’s not sure. It’s not that he’s too busy. Perhaps just too tired, emotionally.

Newton nods. “I get it, dude.” Newt laps around the canoe, his movements just as erratic as when he speaks. Or does anything really. It’s a beautiful tumble of limbs that should look ridiculous but is just endearing with him. “It’s a lot of effort to deal with like personal, um, setbacks isn’t quite the word I’m looking for--” Hermann has drifted back to Newton and they’re pressing close as he rambles. “--and I don’t have the same experiences as you obviously but when you’ve got something just weighing on you, and you know you should fix it because then your life will be better or you  _ hope _ it will for your emotional and mental wellbeing--” Newton’s hand, in its movements, has moved to Hermann’s shoulder. He’s caressing along his collarbone as he talks. “--it’s just so much to deal with, especially alone.”

Hermann reaches with one hand to grab the canoe, then wraps an arm around Newton’s waist and pulls him closer still so he can put his lips to Newton’s neck. He kisses, nips at his pulse point, suckles down to the spot where his neck meets his shoulder and lathes his tongue in the soft dip there. He tastes of  _ Newton _ and  _ lake _ . It’s intoxicating.

Newton groans and wraps his arms around Hermann’s shoulders, and their legs bump as they kick to keep above the water. “Herms,” he whines and their hips grind together now. They’re both somewhere nearing hard even in the cold, their bodies in a state of  _ needing _ as they give in more and more to their temptations. “Fuck, Herms, you’re killing me here.”

“How?” Hermann murmurs against his neck. Since Newton is holding them together, Hermann lowers his hand down Newton’s body, skimming over his hip and moving between them. “You’re not enjoying this?” He runs his fingers over Newton’s thigh, drawing closer but not touching Newt’s cock yet.

Another groan, and then Newton is whining. “This…” he pants a breath. “Not enough. Too cold here, can’t…” And he cries out when Hermann wraps his fingers around Newton’s cock finally. He squeezes, sliding up and down the length. 

It is too cold. Hermann suddenly wishes they were back in front of the fire, or laid out on the bed together.. But that’s too far away. The shore is right there. He flicks his thumb over the head of Newton’s cock and swallows his cry with his mouth. Pulling back he nods to the shore. “There, now. I need more, too.”

It’s a struggle because neither are willing to let go of one another for more than a few seconds, but they manage to drag the canoe to shore and crawl up to the grass. Newton throws his sweatshirt onto the ground and stretches out on it, beckoning Hermann on top of him. 

It is still cold, they are so wet, but the need to feel each other is stronger than the need to be warm. Hermann lies down on top of Newton and their mouths find each other again. Their hips grind together and now that they’re out of the water, Hermann feels his blood flowing again. His dick is hardening quickly, balls growing tight already. A shiver runs down his spine when Newton grabs at his ass, pulling him against him harder. Hermann easily falls into a quick, rough rhythm with Newton.

Newton’s breath moves over his mouth, across his cheek to his ear. He nips at the lobe of Hermann’s ear and murmurs into it. “You’re so gorgeous, Herms. Fucking beautiful, babe, can’t believe how good you feel.”

The words spur Hermann to a slightly faster pace, reveling in the feelings the praise gives him. “Darling, I’m close.”

Then Newton’s hand slips between them and he wraps his fingers around both of their erections, creating a tight grip for them to fuck into. The added pressure makes Hermann cry out. He drops his head to Newton’s neck and suckles there, licking at his racing pulse.

“That’s it,” Newton coos. “Fuck yes, babe. Cum for me,” he says and swipes his thumb over the head of Hermann’s dick then twists his hand back down their lengths.

It’s enough to send Hermann over the edge and he cums in Newton’s hand, all over their stomachs. His hips stutter in the overwhelming pleasure and a shiver runs down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold. 

“Ah, Newt! Darling, please,” he whines not even sure what he’s asking for. Everything is too much, the tightness of the hand, the second shudder of his orgasm, the feeling of Newton arching into him and adding his cum to the mess between them. “Please, yes, Newt. Fuck.” The obscenity is ripped from him and he collapses as Newton slips his hand away from their softening cocks.

Newton’s head is dropped back and rolled to the side as he sucks in deep breaths of air. Hermann is breathing just as heavily and he’s sagged against Newton now. He tries to shift his weight, worried about Newton beneath him, but Newt stops him. He wraps his arms around Hermann and holds him closely, turning his face again and seeking Hermann’s lips in a soft, lazy kiss.

“It’s really cold,” Newton says finally.

Hermann laughs and rolls over into the grass. “And it’s your fault. I am  _ definitely _ blaming you. You’re the one who suggested skinny dipping.”

“You know what,” Newton chuckles as he gets to his feet and holds out a hand to Hermann. “I’ll happily take the blame for this. How many times have you had sex outside?”

Hermann sputters and blushes. “Just-just this once.”

Newton’s face takes on that accomplished beam as they walk to the canoe and fish their clothes out. He holds them up and looks down at his stomach. “Should we wash off first?”

“We’re either into our clothes dirty or wet…” He eyes the water again remembering how cold it is. “Let’s just shower at home. It shouldn’t take us very long to paddle back.”

They shuffle into their clothes, both shooting looks of discomfort at each other and breaking into peals of laughter as they do. The sun is rising high in the sky now, tipping into the afternoon, and it’s warm as they head back.

“That was fun,” Hermann says softly. It’s very unlike anything he would have done before. Vanessa may have taken him out of his comfort zone, but that was typically socially. She took him to parties, fancy places with people he could snub his nose at comfortably and talk in circles with his intellect. But getting naked outside, that was new. And exciting.

“Yeah, I’m glad you had fun too. I wasn’t sure you’d go for something like that.” Newton is doing most of the paddling, his sweatshirt abandoned in the bottom of the canoe. His muscles flexed beneath the t-shirt, tight from damp, and Hermann finds himself staring.

He clears his throat and looks away, seeing the shore near their cabin getting closer. “Typically, no, but you’re a terrible influence and an absolute menace, Newton Geiszler.”

That only makes the man smile. “Perfect, that’s what I was going for.”

They get to shore and lug the canoe back up to its place behind the cabin then head inside to get cleaned up. This time the shared shower is perfunctory, and soon they’re in fresh clothes and curled on the couch together with the fire going. Hermann still feels a bit chilled, his lean frame never keeping warmth very well, and Newton’s made it his goal to envelope him in as much of his own heat as possible. 

“So,” Newton’s voice sounds a little hesitant and Hermann stiffens reflexively. “You’ve sort of abandoned your whole ‘no sex’ thing.”

“I-” Hermann swallows and shifts on the couch, in Newton’s arms so he can set his head on his chest and stretch his long legs across the length of the couch. The movement also gives him time to think. “Yes, well, I apparently have certain, er inhibitions when it comes to you.”

Newton shifts with him and they sink into a comfortable hold where Newt can run his hands along Hermann’s arms. “What if you had a different escort here?”

Hermann scoffs. “I assure you, if anyone else were in your place, the temptation to sex would not be there.”

“I’m flattered.” Newton snuffles into Herman’s air pulling a squawk from him. “You’ve definitely got me a little lost in all this temptation, that’s for sure.”

But that’s not right. This is what should have been avoided. Because if Hermann has these sorts of feelings for Newton, how is he going to handle walking away from him after everything is said and done? One the contract is complete, that’s it. They go their separate ways, unless Hermann cand scrounge for more money and hire him again. Even if money wasn’t an issue, how many times would Newton accept before it becomes too much for him and he stops taking the jobs? This was dangerous for both of them. If Hermann allows himself to believe Newton has feelings for him outside of pretending for the job, that could affect his work. That would affect both of their lives, and there’s no saying what they have will last. It would be unfair to have Newton start something that has no guarantee of going anywhere.

They are in lust, Hermann has decided. And that can be fun, but it shouldn’t be pursued with no thought.

“I like you, Newton. And I want to really enjoy the rest of this weekend, no limitations. But when this weekend is done,” he feels Newton tense, “we go back to our lives. If something more...I can’t think beyond this weekend right now, okay?”

Newton takes a long moment to think. Hermann can feel his breath catch with an unspoken thought, let loose as he tries to gather those thoughts into a response, and then nods. “Alright. We pour everything into this weekend, and we deal with the rest when we need to.”

Hermann pauses. “I need to be sure, we are in agreement that we both quite like one another. Your feelings are as you say, more than just the job?”

“Yes, Hermann. I really like you and it’s been a struggle to keep this professional is what I’m saying.” Newton hugs him as well as he can from this position and Hermann tilts his head back to kiss beneath Newton’s jaw.

“Good.”

“Agreed.” Newton settles again and so does Hermann.

They doze into the afternoon, and Hermann’s growling stomach is what wakes them. “Darling?” He tries to twist to get a look at Newton. “Newt, are you awake?”

“Mmmyea--” The words dissolve into a yawn.

Hermann kisses his chin. “I’m going to make us some food. Let me up?”

Newton’s arms drop away from him and Hermann’s able to pull himself to his feet, fishing the cane from the coffee table. He makes his way to the kitchen and riffles through the fridge and pantry, looking for things to make a chicken curry. It was a meal they’d picked out together at the grocery. He tries not to be too noisy as he cooks, shooting glances at where Newton is still curled napping on the couch. 

He takes a few too many glances at Newton, appreciating the calm picture he makes on the couch and ends up spilling curry powder all over the counter. “Shit,” he murmurs and wipes it up. Then he focuses better, limiting his admiring gazes to times he’s  _ not _ mixing or pouring anything. 

When everything is ready and lightly simmering, Hermann goes back out to the couch and sits down next to Newton. He reaches out and brushes the hair back from his forehead, trails his fingers over Newton’s brow now that he’s not wearing his glasses. “Newt, darling, food’s ready.” He keeps his voice soft, stirring Newton to wakefulness slowly. He keeps tracing his fingers over Newton’s face as he comes to.

With a smile that turns to a yawn, Newton stretches. Then he grabs Hermann’s hand and brings it to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “Aw babe, you let me sleep?”

Hermann nods, his mouth a taut serious. “You looked tired, and I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. It’s my fault we keep starting the days so early.”

“I don’t mind. Means more time with you.” Newton sits up and they both head into the kitchen together, serving themselves.

“Shall we actually use the table to eat this time?”

Newton laughs. “No! We can use tables and proper furniture when we’re not on vacation. Let’s toss the pillows onto the floor by the fire again.”

And Hermann has no desire to deny Newton anything at the moment. He nods and they shuffle back to the fireplace. Hermann holds their plates while Newton makes his nest again. Then they sit carefully and tuck into the food. The only sounds now are the appreciative groans from Newton and the appraising hums Hermann gives.

When they finish, they push the plates onto the coffee table and relax on the little pillow bed. 

“You know,” Newt says, setting his head in Hermann’s lap. “We haven’t used much of the Getaway’s services. Is that okay with you?”

Hermann nods and lets his fingers slide through Newton’s hair. “I’m enjoying this, don’t worry. The way I see it, I’ve paid for the  _ choice _ to participate or not, but this cabin and your time are what I’m really invested in.”

“Cool.”

Hermann has a thought though. “Wait, are you disappointed we aren’t doing more? I wanted you to enjoy this weekend as well.”

“What? No, that’s totally fine. The less time with other people and all their noise the better. I needed a break from--stuff.” He closes his eyes and leans into Hermann’s petting. “You’re all the company I need.”

“Good.” Hermann relaxes again, sinking into the pillows and losing his thoughts to the feel of Newton’s hair for a while. “Newton?”

“Herms?”

Hermann has never been interested in tattooing as an art. He used to think it somewhat crude or used by those who felt the need to scream at society that they are different. Thoughts and beliefs that are remnants of his father’s influence, most likely. But as he’s watched Newton, as he’s traced the lines over ink over the man’s body, Hermann has become quite enraptured with the idea. “Your tattoos, did they hurt?” Not that he necessarily wants one for himself. But he’s always enjoyed art, and he’s starting to see the appeal of this particular medium.

“A bit. In some places more than others but it became a familiar feeling after a while.” Newton’s hand found Hermann’s leg and he ran his fingers up and down it. “Actually, I started looking forward to the feeling of getting tattooed. Why, you thinking of getting one now that you see how awesome they are?”

“Hardly,” Hermann shoots back, but he’s actually not sure. “What would I even get tattooed onto myself?”

“Math equations. Galaxies and constellations. I can think of an awesome back piece design.” Newton’s hand is moving quicker now, squeezing occasionally with his excitement growing. “I know an artist who could do some amazing work with that.”

“Darling, darling, calm down.” Hermann urges him, tugging at his hair a bit. “It was an idle thought, nothing more. I was more curious about  _ your _ experience, not my own.”

“Oh, yeah. Right, of course.” Newton settles again but his hand is still massaging along Hermann’s leg. It honestly feels really good after the paces he’s put himself through on it.

And now is the perfect segway to his burning question. Hermann steels himself and asks, “Would you be up for having me draw you? The way you discussed drawing me, that is. In just the blanket?”

Newton’s breath visibility catches and his hand stutters in its movement. “For real? You want to draw  _ me _ ?” 

“Yes, I really do. In the morning as the sun is coming up, there will be a beautiful streak of light into our room and it would be perfect.” Hermann can picture it after waking up there twice now. The window lets in a great slant of light that would just have Newton positively glowing.

“Wow, I--yeah. That would be amazing.”

Hermann brushes Newton’s hair back from his face and looks down at it, at the freckles muttered over his nose and cheeks. Fucking gorgeous. “There’s just one problem we’ll have to solve sort of immediately, and I have a plan. Of sorts.”

Newton flicks his eyes up to Hermann. “What’s that?”

“I don’t have any art supplies, but I bet we could sneak into that room and take some.” Hermann feels his cheeks and ears heat with nervous embarrassment at even suggesting such a thing as theft.  _ Borrowing _ , they’ll return the supplies or leave them behind in the cabin to be gathered by staff when they leave. “If you can distract the front desk attendee, I can slip in and grab what I need.”

And Newton’s eyes brighten with the mischief. “Hermann Gottlieb. You’re suggesting a heist? How fucking exciting. Who  _ are _ you, and alternatively, stop being so perfect because I’m really falling for your handsome ass.”

Hermann narrows his eyes at Newton and swats his thigh. “You really  _ must _ work on your compliments, Newton. You keep adding things like ‘old’ and ‘ass’ which ruin it all.”

“Nah, it sprinkles in some reality and makes it more real.” Newton is already getting up, clearly on board with Hermann’s plan. “Come on, you’ve got me super excited now and they can’t be running an art class this late, right?”

It’s not quite six, and Hermann doesn’t recall a class being listed at this time. “Right.” He gets up as well, deposits their dishes in the sink with the ones from that morning, and fetches the keys to his car.

They drive over with nervousness budding between them in fits of giggles. However Hermann had expected today to go, this wasn’t it and he’s quite happy with its direction. When they pull up to the Center, they find the other couples’ cars are not there and think that’s a good sign.

“Here we go. You sure you can distract her?”

“I’ll charm her,” Newt says with a wink.

Hermann closes his eyes for a moment and purses his lips tightly. Newton might have charmed his way into Hermann’s life, but he’s seen how the man was with the lady before. Newton is definitely a type, and he wasn’t hers. “Okay, I’ll be as quick as I can be then. Try not to say anything too monumentally embarrassing.”

Newton is half-way out of the car at that, and stops to turn and gasp at Hermann. “What is  _ that _ supposed to mean.”

Instead of an answer, Hermann just raises a single eyebrow at him then climbs out of the car and starts for the front doors. Newton hurries after him, and jumps up the steps to pull the door open for them. Hermann slips in quietly and starts for the hallway, trying to set his cane as quietly as he can. Newton goes immediately for the check-in alcove, a bright smile already spreading on his face.

Hermann hears his voice loudly through the building and knows immediately he’ll be a great distraction. Just like Hermann thought. 

“Hi! Do you remember me? I was here yesterday for the art thing with that other handsome gentleman. I just had a couple of questions, if you don’t mind, er...I’m sorry we never got your name.”

Hermann rolls his eyes at the exuberance but allows himself a smile in private. Newton is absolutely the cutest thing, and his energy has been a wonder for Hermann. Mako helps, as a friend, but she has a calm, reserved feeling about her that is much like Hermann’s energy if not on the positive end of quiet where his is slightly negative. Newton though is something different, something so outgoing and alive that it feels infectious. It’s really no wonder he’s fallen for the man.

The art room still has the Art Extravaganza! poster on the door, and it’s ajar like before. He doesn’t imagine many people are looking to steal art supplies and Redwood Getaway must think the same thing. Well, they’re in for a surprise. Hermann slips inside, peeks his head out to make sure he’s alone, and turns the light on. The room is much like it was before, and finding the right supplies is easy. He pulls open a drawer and finds a large drawing pad. He goes to the back where the brushes are and finds a stash of drawing pencils.

Here he hesitates. He would love to draw Newton in color, to etch out every freckle and beautifully colored tattoo as vibrantly as it stands in real life, but his time will be limited to just a few hours in the morning. The light will shift on him, and they will run out of mornings to work. One morning. Not mornings. Tomorrow is Sunday, and they’re to drive home Sunday night.

He tries not to feel an ache in his chest at this thought, and pushes it aside in favor of picking out the pencils he wants. A quick sketch then, and perhaps he can fill in the color from memory once he’s home. He’ll have to buy art supplies, something he hasn’t had in some time.

Stashing the pencils in his pocket and tucking the large drawing pad under his arm, Hermann pauses and looks around. He’ll need an easel. There wasn’t really a great place to draw in the cabin, and he couldn’t possibly sit on the bed to draw for a few hour’s time. It would be easier to stand. He sees one folded in a corner, easy to move and still has extendable legs to pop up to standing height. Surely they won’t miss their things for a single day. 

Hermann grabs it, managing to tuck it under his arm with the notepad, and then hurries from the room, careful to shut the light off and crack the door. He gets to the end of the hallway and peeks to the alcove. Newton is still thoroughly distracting the woman, gesturing wildly and drawing her attention completely away from the hallway and Hermann.

Darting across the main area to the door, Hermann goes out and glances around. Still empty outside as well. He goes to the car and stuffs the easel and pad inside, then stands and heads back in. This time loudly.

“Newton, where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

That draws the woman’s and Newton’s attention effectively. The woman looks relieved, and Newton puts on a show of being scolded, hanging his head slightly and blinking up at him through his long eyelashes. Damn, but that is a picture.

“Sorry Herms, got distracted talking to Gertrude.” He turns back to her, smiles, and reaches out a hand. “It was really nice chatting. I have to run. Have a nice night!”

She shakes his hand and her head at the same time, watching him go. Hermann offers her a smile, slips his arm through Newton’s when he comes over, and turns to take him back to the cabin.

“Mission successful,” Hermann whispers as they step outside.

“See, told you I’d be great at distractions! I can’t believe I pulled a heist with you.” Newton grins and leans over to plant a kiss on Hermann’s check. “You got the good stuff, right? No cheap art supplies for these thieves.”

“Newton,” Hermann sighs but doesn’t say more. He doesn’t have to as they climb into the car. They both know his exasperation is part of the game.

They drive back the few minutes it takes, and Newton doesn’t stop talking the entire time. Mostly praising Hermann’s leap in the criminal and exhibitionist world. Hermann argues back eloquently, meaning he grunts and frowns at each new point Newton makes.

When they get back, Hermann takes his stolen goods to the bedroom and gets them set up for the morning. Newton follows him and flops loudly on the bed. “You know,” Hermann says over his shoulder as he pulls the legs of the easel down. “I’ll have to wake you up early again for the right lighting.”

“Earlier than you think, too. I need coffee before sitting to model for you.” He’s got his elbows on the bed and chin on his elbows. He is watching Hermann with a smirk on his face. “And a little breakfast maybe. Who knows, since you’ve given up the sex ban, we might have a little fun too.”

“Newton, I have  _ plans _ and I will not be swayed. We can fuck after I draw you.”

“Oh, is that promise?” 

He’s absolutely preening from the bed when Hermann turns to glower at him. It softens the lines on Hermann’s face and draws him over to the bed. Carefully, he crouches so he’s face level with the man. “I promise.” He leans in and ghosts his lips over Newton’s, not so much kissing as caressing, teasing. He feels Newton’s breath mingle with his, a sharp inhale when Hermann darts a tongue across his bottom lip. Then he presses closer and they kiss languidly, tasting each other.

“Hermann?”

“Yes?” He pulls back at the curious tone and looks at inquisitive hazel eyes.

“Can we make s’mores in the fireplace?”

He pulls back a little further to make sure Newton can see his incredulous look, which only earns him a chuckle. “The fireplace? Indoors? That’s an outdoor activity, Newt.”

“Would you make a fire outside and roast marshmallows out there?”

It’s something he hasn’t done in...quite a long time, actually. And this is their last night really. “It would be a shame to miss that opportunity, don’t you think? This being our last night and all. I brought mosquito repellant.”

Newton’s face contorts in something like pain for a moment, but snaps back quickly. “You’re right! We said we’d take full advantage of the rest of the weekend, so let’s do it.”

“Great.” Hermann nods and uses the bed to help himself stand up. Then he goes to the suitcase to find a heavier sweater. It was likely to be cold out at this time of night, and he’s been cold enough today. 

Newton grabs a clean sweatshirt and slips it over his head, then they both head outside with marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. There’s already a space for a fire setup off to one side. A large log for sitting on is next to a circle of rocks, and they can pull wood from the stack already cut up. This time, Hermann helps Newton put it all together and they get it going pretty quickly.

It really is nice. The crackling sounds pleasant, the weather cool but not so cold in the heat of the fire and the warmth of Newton next to him, and the stars visible in the break of the trees they’re beneath. Hermann’s leg is pressed against Newton’s, and they’re both digging in the marshmallow bag.

“Here, let me--”

“I’ve got it, if you just--”

“Both of our hands aren’t going to fit--”

“Herms, babe, I’m just gunna--”

“Newt!”

Eventually they each get a marshmallow in hand and glare at each other. Newton breaks first, laughs and leans over to kiss Hermann quickly. Then they turn to the fire and hold their marshmallows between their fingers.

“Sticks,” they say in unison.

“Here, I’ll find some.” Newton scrambles up and over to the little wooded area. Hermann hears him crackling around the brambles, hears a couple snaps, and then he’s scampering back to the log. “Here, found two good ones.”

Hermann takes one and skewers his marshmallow. It turns out they have two very different ideas of how to roast a marshmallow. Hermann is of the theory that you find a little area where there are embers and slowly turn the sugar fluff until it browns. Newton thinks it’s quicker to just set the thing on fire and blow it out.

“Instant crispy outside!” He beams and Hermann shakes his head with a grimace.

“No, Newton. Just...no.” Hermann fishes out the crackers, hands a couple to Newton and takes the chocolate he offers. Then he puts his s’more together and takes a bite. Perfect. He lets out a happy groan. It has been a long time since he’s had one of these.

Newton makes a similar noise next to him. “Good, right?” He tips over to rub their shoulders together.

“Yeah, it is. Great idea.”

“Thanks. And good idea on going outside. It’s nice out here.” He tilts his head back and Hermann does the same.

“See that there?” He points to a set of stars. “That’s cassiopeia, the ones that look a bit like a W. And there,” Hermann points to another set. “That’s Perseus.”

Newton follows where he points, and soon they’re both on their backs, seeking out constellations together. “It’s really neat knowing an astrophysicist. Hey!” Newton leans up on an elbow to look down at Hermann’s face. “Can you like, name a star? Are you looking for planets and systems and whatever?”

Hermann smiles and shakes his head. “Not me. I mean, we can name a star, certainly. There are star registries, but that’s just tosh.”

“What? You don’t think it’d be like romantic to name a star for someone?”

“The ones you name have been found. They’re… I don’t know. I think it would be better to name something undiscovered, er well, discovered by you. Like that mutation you found.”

Newton tilts his head and looks like he’s thinking about Hermann’s point, his lips pursed slightly. “Yeah, I can see that. Well then I promise, the next algae mutation I find, I’ll name it for you.”

Hermann doesn’t want that to feel as good as it does. He doesn’t want his heart to feel like it’s trying to do somersaults in his chest. But that’s exactly what happens. The thought of Newton in the field making some new discovery and immediately thinking of Hermann is such a good thought that Hermann has to frown to push down his emotions. “You sure you don’t want to name me after a fungus?” he asks in a tone to draw Newton’s attention away from how touched he is.

“Eh, I could, but I’ll probably think of you more with something water based after today’s excursion,” he says with a wink.

His cheeks heat and he turns his face away. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Mm, it’s your fault.”

“I want another s’more.” Hermann gets up and they both go back to the fire.

After far too many sweets, they put the fire out and head back inside. They smell of smoke and the outdoors. And Newton’s mouth tastes of chocolate. Without speaking, they make their way to the bedroom and crawl up the bed together. Newton flicks the bedside light on, and they tangle together, uncoordinated in their undressing. Sweaters and sweatshirt tossed aside, slipped out of pants, stripped of shirts, they cuddle up in just underclothes and lose themselves to kissing.

Hermann tries to chase the sweet taste of s’mores around Newton’s mouth, to feel the patterns of the roof of his mouth, to memorize the press of his soft lips. Newton maps Hermann’s mouth just the same, and they spend a long time doing nothing more than that.

Eventually, Hermann wants to feel more of Newton under his mouth and he moves to his jaw. He feels the stubble there, unshaved since yesterday, and it tickles against his lips. Hermann’s tongue lathes over the crook of his neck and down. He nips at Newton’s collar bones. He slowly devours each part of the man beneath him, and Newton drowns in the attentions.

Lower still, Hermann bites at the firm muscle of Newton’s pecs, dances his teeth to a pert nipple. He takes it gently between his teeth and rolls it, eliciting a sharp, pitched gasp from him. He pushes his tongue over it, then sucks, feeling the bud harden in his mouth. He teeths at it again before kissing his way to the other side and giving his other nipple the same attention. Newton has a fantastic chest, firm and solid from whatever working out he does. Hermann brings a hand up to massage the muscle while he nibbles away.

Then Newton is squirming, writing beneath his mouth. “Please,” he whines. “Too much,” he pants out.

When Hermann pulls up he finds Newton’s nipples puffy and red from the abuse. He runs his thumbs over both of them one last time, drawing a cry from Newton. Then he moves down his torso.

He kisses at Newton’s rips, draws his tongue in a stripe down his stomach. He bites Newton’s hip bones, making the man jerk upwards and hiss. “Bad?” Hermann asks.

“No, good. Harder.”

Hermann grins and moves to the other side. This time he bites down hard enough to leave a reddened mark behind. Then he sucks at it, licks it, and moves down further. His chin bumps against Newton’s erection, but his mouth stays at the soft skin just above it. He loves the warm smell here, the heady scent that is overwhelmingly  _ Newton _ .

When Newt starts to whine, he finally grabs the base of his cock and slips his mouth around it. He sucks his way down as far as he can, not nearly able to do what Newton had done; Hermann’s gag reflex was too high. But he knew tricks. He slid back up the head of his cock and flicked his tongue over the slit, cucked at the head, and then pulled over and wrapped his lips around the shaft. He sucked his way down one side, pressed his tongue along the back and came back up, rewarded with Newton’s groans and flexing hips. He was careful about how close he brought Newton to orgasm, though, having a different plan in mind.

Sucking back up and licking the head a few more times, tasting the salt of pre-cum, Hermann sits back on his heels. He grins down at Newton who pushes his hair from his face, mouth hanging open as he breathes heavier. “Wha--”

“Lube?” Hermann interrupts his confusion.

Newton throws a hand over to gesture at his bag. “Side pocket.”

Hermann climbs off the bed and fishes out the little bottle. He gets back up and straddles Newton’s hips.

“Oh,” Newton hums. “I thought you wanted to fuck me.” He watches Hermann reach around himself, slicking his ass with the lube. “Not that I’m not totally on board with this direction,” he grins.

“Good, I’m glad. I wanted to feel you again, darling. I’ve quite missed sex that way,” Hermann explains.

“What, Vanessa never used a strap-on for you?”

Hermann smiles softly and shakes his head. “She was less adventurous in the bedroom than I. Softer, more...intimate, I suppose. It was perfect for us.”

Newton smiles back up at him. “Sounds lovely, babe. You really loved her, didn’t you?”

This should be odd to speak about as he grinds his ass back against Newton’s thick erection, but it’s not. And that speaks to the connection the two of them have already. “I really did,” he hums and slowly sinks himself on Newton’s cock. He flattens his hands on Newton’s chest, using it as leverage to raise himself up and back down. “She was such a lovely person, exactly what I needed at the time,” Hermann groans. “As you are exactly what I need right now.”

Newton’s hands grip at Hermann’s hips, fingers wrapping about his hip bones. His mouth is hanging open, tongue darting over his bottom lip. “You don’t know how much I needed you this weekend, Herms.” He’s thrusting up with Hermann’s rhythm, and his cock drives along the curves up to Hermann’s prostate.

Each thrust sends a shock of pleasure through Hermann, and he tightens around Newton which sends  _ him _ into a gasp or a moan. Soon they’ve lost their words to panting and unintelligible noises. Hermann’s thumbs rub at Newton’s nipples again, and he dips down to put his lips to one. Newton cries out, his hips jerk erratically, and Hermann bites a little harder at the bud.

Newton’s hands tighten at his hips and the longer Hermann pushes up and down on his legs, the more an ache is setting in. He grinds down and cries out, and immediately Newton stops moving, clearly hearing the difference in the sound. Pain, not pleasure. His hip is on fire from the sudden stab of pain he’d felt.

“Babe, Herms, you okay?” His hands flatten along Hermann’s ribs instead now and he looks up with worry in his eyes.

Hermann grimaces. “Yes, no but yes. This...position, hurts.”

“Here,” Newton says softly. He’s careful as he turns them over, pulling Hermann off his cock so he can lay him back on the bed. Then Newton is between his legs, pressing in from on top now and the pain in Hermann’s hip fades. “Better?”

“Yes, I’m sor--”

Newton presses their lips together immediately, then he pulls back and pointedly shakes his head. “No, don’t say sorry for that. Nothing is wrong, you did nothing to ruin anything. This is all still perfect,” he says and then rolls his hips.

Now a new cry is pulled from Hermann. He arches in pleasure, and reaches up to Newton’s chest again. He wants to feel those muscles as he’s fucked. He wants to see Newton’s face twist in pleasure as he suckles at him. He leans up and takes a nipple between his teeth again and Newton cries out this time. They find their rhythm once more, a steady thrust and tightening of muscles. 

“I’m close, Newton. Just,, there, like that…”

Newton grinds his hips a little faster, his hands planted by Hermann’s head down. He leans down and Hermann catches him in a kiss, and then Hermann is cumming. As his hips jerk up, he feels Newton shudder and cum on his stomach, hot seed stripping across his skin.

Panting, Hermann collapses back and Newton rolls to the side. They lie next to each other just breathing for a long time.

“This is going to be the third shower of the day.” Hermann looks over at Newton and gives him a little pout.

Shrugging, Newton says, “It’s that or sleep in this mess again.”

“No. Shower.”

“Agreed.”

Soon, they’re washed and curled together naked in bed once more. Hermann sets an alarm on his phone so they’ll wake in time for coffee and breakfast before drawing. Newton cuddles into Hermann’s neck, protesting his agreement and complaining that he’s agreed before knowing how their night would end. Hermann offers him an out, but Newton refuses and they fall asleep somewhere in the middle of arguing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning drawing, some panic attacks, and a really bad idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, struggling creatively lately. This is a short chapter, I apologize. But I needed to get something up so I can take a step back and put some planning down for this. We're nearing the end of the vacation weekend, and I honestly don't have plans for the next part o.O It will take some time for the next update, I think. Apologies ahead of time, Dearest Readers.

When the alarm goes off in the morning, Newton buries his head into the closest thing he can find. That happened to be beneath Hermann’s arm; he could tell by the scent he was steadily growing used to. And how cold it was. “No,” Newton whines and tries to wrap himself around Hermann. “Turn it off, stay in bed, and let me make you warm. Abandon all plans and just cuddle me.”

Hermann, as easy as he has been to sway to things so far, puts his foot down this morning. Apparently, this is something he really wants. “Newton,” he says as Newt snuggles closer. “You promised.”

_ Damn _ . With that precious tone, how can Newton say no? “Damn. Alright, alright. But coffee first,  _ you  _ promised.”

“Absolutely, darling. Now, if you’ll extract yourself from me, you can doze while I make the coffee. How about that?”

“Per-” Newton yawns, “-fect.” His eyes are closed again already as he snuggles back down into the blankets, and he smiles when he feels a light kiss to his forehead.

The bed feels so much bigger without Hermann in it, and while it was nicer with someone to cuddle, Newton still doesn’t want to get up yet. He grabs the pillow Hermann slept on all night and smushes his face into it, inhaling deeply. This will have to do until he can get back in the man’s arms. And Hermann is on board with that now. Whatever this is that they are trying out this weekend, Newton is only too happy to pursue. Of course, if he lets his mind wander to the end of the weekend, there looms gloom and doom.

Because after leaving Hermann, Newton will have to take new jobs. With other people. People who might be like Mr. Antoni and nothing like Hermann. And damn it all, this new fear bubbling in his chest is something he’s never had to deal with before. There’ve been weird jobs, sure. He’s been roughed around a little, but there was always a sense that he could walk away. With Mr. Antoni, it had felt like he was trapped and no matter what he said or did, the man wasn’t going to listen to him.

Newton doesn’t ever want to feel that way again. He loves his job. He really, really does, as he keeps insisting to Hermann, but how is he ever going to feel  _ safe _ in his job after that? And who’s to say Hermann will be okay with him keeping this job if they  _ do _ pursue something after this weekend?

Now sleep is the last thing on Newt’s mind. With a growl, he shoves the blankets off himself and tries to rid his head of the anxieties. He stalks his way to the bathroom to relieve his bladder and splash some water on his face. Hopefully the cold will shock him back to the present and out of the future he hasn’t even experienced yet.

It does help. A bit. He wipes his face dry with the hand towel and comes back to see Hermann holding two mugs of steaming coffee, a smile on his face. Newt pads over and reaches for the mug that Hermann extends to him. 

“Thanks, babe.” He leans up and plants a kiss in the corner of Hermann’s mouth. “Sit on the bed and drink with me? Just a few minutes.”

Hermann nods and they carefully crawl back onto the bed with their drinks. Hermann mostly cradles his while Newt practically gulps his down. “Is that not too hot?” Hermann sounds concerned.

Newt shakes his head and hums a sound that might be understood as a no. He takes another big sip and the hums a happy noise this time. “This is so good.” He closes his eyes tight, breaths in the aroma of the coffee, and when he opens his eyes again, he finds Hermann staring at him intently.

“What?” He asks feeling his cheeks tinge with warmth.

“You’re quite handsome. It’s why I wanted to do this so badly.” Hermann’s eyes dart to the easel and canvas.

The painting they had done together was fun, certainly hadn’t been some masterpiece, but the way Hermann eyes the supplies now, the way his long fingers twitch in anticipation, Newt wonders how great an artist he  _ actually  _ is. All of a sudden, Newton can’t wait to find out. He wants to see what he will look like in a painting,, what interpretation of Newt Hermann has in his mind.

Taking one last sip, Newton sets the mug aside and gets up, stretching. He slips his boxers off, grabs the sheet to drape around his shoulders, and twists his hips in a showy fashion. “You wanted something like this, right?”

Hermann makes a noise like a groan in the back of his throat and nods. He climbs off the bed as well and goes for the window, drawing open the curtains so the faint light of the rising sun starts to pour in. There’s a stool in front of the easel that is now bathed in the light, and Hermann beckons Newt over with just a crook of his fingers.

Excitement puts a chill down Newton’s spine as he walks over and puts his hand in Hermann’s outstretched one. He lets the man direct him to the seat. He lets Hermann shift his legs, move his arms, tilt his chin just so. He sighs when Hermann repositions the sheet, pulling it off one of Newton’s shoulders and exposing tattooed flesh to a ray of light. He shivers when the cold hits his thigh as Hermann exposes that part of him as well. And when he’s all done being moved about, Newt closes his eyes as Hermann’s lips find his.

“You look perfect, darling.”

“Mm, do I?”

Hermann nods and steps back, raking his eyes slowly up and down Newt’s body. “Yes.” He steps around to his easel and grabs his pencils. “Don’t move.”

That command is a hard one to follow. Newt is made of movement. Even his thoughts wind their way through his head in a messy weave of commotion. His words are said with his hands, his thoughts are seen with jawing and head tilts. To sit still for so long, for Hermann to have time to draw him, well he hadn’t thought about that part of all of this. He’s determined though to make this happen.

“Right,” he says and almost immediately feels his glasses slipping down his nose. “Um…” He tries to wrinkle his nose and get them back in place.

Hermann sighs and shakes his head before coming over and adjusting them for him. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Newt grins sheepishly, but he gets another light peck on the lips, so all in all, he’s feeling  _ too bad _ about interrupting so soon.

Hermann settles behind the canvas and Newt does his best to stay still. The room is a little cold, but as the sun sits on his skin as it rises, Newton feels comfortable. He watches Hermann as he works, watches the way his eyes drag over Newt’s form. The pencil on the pad makes light scratching noises, the only real sound in the room for a time. It creates a soft, rhythmic sound that’s nearly musical, and Newt finds himself drifting with it.

He’s never felt so scrutinized and so appreciated at the same time. It’s odd to know Hermann is drawing him, putting his image to paper. Each glance and movement of his hand is building more and more of Newton as a drawing. He hopes he’s a good model. He really tries his best not to move too much.

A slight ache sets in his lower back, but he doesn’t say anything. He can’t, not with the way Hermann’s face has taken on such a look of concentration. His thin lips are pulled tight, making his mouth look even wider. His eyebrows are drawn low, casting his eyes in darker shadow. Newt shivers because that look is Hermann’s focus on  _ him _ .

Focus. Intensity. But also appreciation.

Newton has been looked at this intensely only once before, by Mr. Antoni, and there had been no appreciation in that gaze. Only possession. Being drawn, captured on paper, that should be feeling like possession, but it doesn’t. Not with Hermann. Newt shifts finally, some panic rising in his chest as images of Mr. Antoni’s gaze starts to pour in and drown out Hermann’s face. 

And now this is too much, too much attention, too much of everything all at once. Because it’s not the same, but it’s there. The looks, the focus, the--

Newt sucks in a breath past his tight throat and stumbles off of the stool. “I’m sorry, I just...I need a minute. I need to,” he cringes at his awkwardness, at Hermann dropping his things immediately and taking a step toward Newton. “Please don’t, uh, don’t touch me. I just…” He hurries around Hermann, fleeing for the bathroom and nearly tripping over the length of bedsheet still trailing around his body.

Newt pulls the sheets around his body better so that he’s wrapped in them comfortably as he collapses against the tub in a panic he can’t explain. He’s messed things up already. They’ve just decided to explore in a way he’s been wanting, and they’ve not even gotten through an entire morning before he’s screwing it all up. Fucking typical Newt. It hurts to breathe. His chest is going to explode--

There’s a soft knock on the door and Hermann’s voice is more than whisper so he’s heard, but not much more than that. “Newton, are you alright? Did I do something wrong?”

As much as he wants to answer, Newt finds the words crowding his throat and not making it any further. His hands are shaking as he holds the sheet about himself, feeling colder than he should in the cabin.

“New-Newton?” 

The fear in Hermann’s voice pulls him from some of the panic. Newton clears his throat. “No, it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I- I’ll be right out.”

“Do you want to call someone?” Hermann shuffles behind the door. “I can get your cell phone for you.”

The bathroom door isn’t locked. Hermann could push his way in and find out what’s going on, demand answers. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t get into Newton’s space even though he sounds worried, and now he’s offering whatever help he can give even if it’s help from someone else. That’s...too much for Newton right now.

“Yes, phone,” he manages. Sacha will know what to do. His body aches, like he’s holding on to too many things at the same time.

He listens to Hermann shuffle off, the limp sounding bad since he’s clearly rushed over without the help of his cane. There’s some more noises of Hermann likely trying to locate the phone, grabbing his cane perhaps, then coming back to the door. He knocks again, lightly, and though he is expecting it, Newt jumps a little. When he doesn’t move to open the door, he flinches waiting for Hermann to open it.

“Newton? I’ll just leave this on the floor here. I’m going to the kitchen to make a pot of tea, and I’ll sit on the couch out there. Alright?”

Full name. Soft words. Short explanations. 

“Alright.”

When he hears the bedroom door close, Newton finally uncurls from the floor. He opens the bathroom door just enough to snag his cell phone before curling back against the tub. Tapping the phone on and pressing his thumb to the reader, he goes into contacts and selects Sacha’s name. 

The line rings all of twice and then Sacha’s voice pours through. “Newt, what’s wrong? Do you need us to come get you?”

“Wha-” He’s caught off-guard by the sudden worry and a piece of his own panic deflates. “No, no I just. I need to talk. I don’t want to go, don’t want to ruin this.”

“You’re not hurt then?”

“No!” Newton exclaims in a high-pitched tone. “Hermann wouldn't hurt me. It’s not him, it’s me. I’m, I can’t get, I just started remembering and I don’t know why but I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Two deep breaths, Newt. Let out slow, from nose.” Her worry often makes her sentences choppy in English, her focus on the point not the grammar.

He follows her directions taking in a deep lungful of air and letting it out, then doing it once more. He does it a third time and listens as she speaks, already feeling himself come to a center of control even while his body aches. He’s not sure what he would do without the Kaidonovskys.

“Everything is going to be fine, Newt. You are safe. Hermann is good.  _ You _ are good.” She takes a few deep breaths that he follows. “Now, tell. What happened?”

She waits for him to start speaking, a seemingly impossibly long time without breaking the silence. But they both know. He needs time, and she can give it to him. He works on evening his breathing a bit more and tightens his grip on the sheets like they’re only thing holding him together at the moment.

“Hermann was drawing me. Like, I’m wrapped up in a sheet sitting on a stool and he’s  _ drawing  _ me.” He hears Sacha make a thoughtful humming noise. “I’ve never, I mean, have you ever had that much close attention put on you?”

“Sure. Sex with Aleksis.”

This makes Newton chuckle. “Fair, but outside of sex? This had nothing to do with sex, but I think it’s one of the most intimate things I’ve ever done. And he was just, it was just so much  _ attention  _ and the way he looked at me!”

This time the noise is questioning. “What do you mean?” She sounds as though she’s expecting to hear something negative, her tone defensive more than just curious.

“Nothing bad! Not at all.”

“So why the panic?”

Newton shrugs and wonders much the same thing. “I don’t know. Suddenly the way Mr. Antoni looked at me came back to mind, and I started thinking about how I will have to have other clients who might be like him, nothing like Hermann. And how will I ever experience someone sitting down and  _ drawing _ me like that? I’ll find more bathrooms and being grabbed, but I won’t find being a work of art.”

Sacha blows a hard breath from her nose and he can picture her nodding a decisive movement. “Newton, have you talked to Hermann about this?”

“No. I panicked and ran and he left my cellphone.”

“Have you talked to Hermann at  _ all _ about your feelings?”

“Yeah, a bit. We decided to just let this weekend be like, I guess sort of like actual dating because we both admitted we liked each other a lot.” His hand is relaxing its grip on the sheets now. “I know he likes me, too, but one night and one weekend…”

“It’s not enough time to know where everything will go,” Sacha says echoing his thoughts. Then he can hear some movement on Sacha’s end, then her speaking muffled to Aleksis. “Yes, it’s Newt. He’s okay, I’m handling.” 

“You are sure?” he hears Aleksis say.

“Tell him he can listen in,” Newt offers, knowing the man won’t be satisfied to hear everything second hand. Damn, but Newton loves his Russians.

“Fine. Here, sit with me.”

Newt listens to them get situated before continuing. “It’s not a lot of time, like you said. And what if we jump into this thing and it all goes bad?”

“Love is always a risk,” Aleksis says. He can hear him clearly so they must have him on speaker phone.

“But how do I know it’s love?”

Sacha laughs. “You won’t. Not until you try, have more time with him.” 

Newton pulls himself off the floor and shifts in the sheet, feeling uncomfortable now. And still chilly. “So, you’re saying confess my feelings to him and see if he’ll like, pursue a relationship after this weekend?” He opens the bathroom door and peers out. Hermann is gone, like he said he would be, so Newt sneaks out and ruffles in his bag for clothes.

“Date, Newt. Like a normal person. Ask him to dinner or something outside of Shatter.” Sacha sighs and Newt feels a bit like a kid being explained a simple concept to.

“Right. Normal.” Newton snorts as he pulls on a pair of jeans and the casts about for a t-shirt. He pulls out another graphic one, this one an old school depiction of Pokemon- Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle. He likes it; he wonders if Hermann will even know what it is. “I’m not exactly normal, you know.”

“Pfft, you’re perfect, Newton Geiszler,” says Sacha.

“And I’ll punch anyone who says differently,” adds Aleksis.

Newt feels his heart warm. “Thanks guys. Okay, I’m gunna go. I think I’m fine now.”

Sacha and Aleksis say their short goodbyes and the call ends. Newton stands in the middle of the bedroom now, feeling a bit like he’s overreacted but also like he’s needed that breakdown. He takes another deep breath and lets his thoughts settle. Then, as he looks about almost aimlessly, his eyes land on the canvas.

Curiosity drives him forward, and before he realizes what he’s doing, Newt is coming around to see the drawing. It’s all black and white pencil, but it’s absolutely  _ alive _ . Hermann is good. No, he’s better than good. Hermann is a fucking artist. Newt reaches his fingers out to move over the lines of the picture, the curves of his face and body drawn out with Hermann’s own hand. 

The picture is definitely  _ him _ , but there is something else with it. Something...soft. Is this how Hermann sees him? Newt doesn’t always like the way he looks; he’s not thought himself ugly necessarily, but seeing this picture he feels handsome. The detail to his eyes is amazing. Dark along the lids that show his thick lashes, the streaks in the iris that mimic color. The white space that makes up the streams of light from the window. 

He really needs to talk to Hermann about tomorrow. Fuck, tomorrow.

One more deep breath and Newton heads out to the living room. Hermann is on the couch like he said he would be, and he’s at the end of a conversation on the phone himself. 

“I promise I’ll talk to him. Yeah, goodbye Miss Mori.” Something is said on the other end of the line before he smiles. “Thank you, Mako.”

Hermann clicks the phone off and looks up at Newton. He palms the cane and stands with a softly worried look. “Newton. Are you alright, darling?”

Newton nods. “Yes, can we talk?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It is still dark outside when Hermann wakes, and the alarm hasn’t gone off yet. He can hear Newton’s deep breathing next to him and he smiles at the sound. It’s nice waking up the last few nights with warmth pressed against him, and Hermann is not looking forward to going back to  _ not _ having that. He scrubs a hand over his face to rid himself of those thoughts, wanting this morning to be perfect. He’s going to draw Newton, something he hasn’t done in a while. 

Hermann used to sketch Vanessa constantly. He has a large sketch book filled with her, somewhere in a closet he thinks. It’s a hobby he’s given up since her passing, and he is a little worried about how good he’ll still be after all that time. He lifts a hand in the dark of the early morning and twists his wrist around, flexes his fingers. Everything moves easily since he’s actually warm. 

When the phone alarm goes off, he feels Newton jolt and hears him groan. Then the man is trying to bury himself beneath Hermann. He’s really not a morning person, and perhaps Hermann should have let him have a morning to sleep in. He’s been awfully selfish this weekend, but Newton hasn’t complained once.

“No,” he hears Newton whine. “Turn it off, stay in bed, and let me make you warm. Abandon all plans and just cuddle me.”

He’s too precious, but Hermann has plans. He tries to sound firm. “Newton, you promised.”

“Damn. Alright, alright. But coffee first,  _ you  _ promised.”

That was a fair point, and something Hermann is only too happy to oblige. “Absolutely, darling. Now, if you’ll extract yourself from me, you can doze while I make the coffee. How about that?”

“Per-” Newton yawns, “-fect.”

Hermann chuckles and places a kiss on Newton’s head but he seems to be back asleep already. Getting up from the bed, Hermann shivers at the sudden loss of heat and quickly gets himself into pyjama pants and a long-sleeved shirt. He shuffles quietly to the kitchen, the dark of the morning making him move slowly so as not to bump into anything. He’s become familiar with the small space fairly quickly and once in the kitchen digs right in to where they keep the coffee grounds. He fills the machine with water, sets the grounds, and leans against the counter listening to the thing burble.

It’s their last day today. That worries him because he’s not sure where they’ll go after all of this. Do they just part ways and chalk this up to a great weekend they both needed? Does he hire Newton again for a date? Hermann can’t really afford that too much more. He’s already blown through a lot of his savings for this weekend; in no way does he regret it, but still. Things need to be...managed.

Hermann grabs two mugs and makes Newton’s coffee with too much sugar and milk. His own he takes black with a pinch of sugar. There’s a hint of sunrise coming in through the windows, the deep blue just a touch lighter now. He takes the mugs back to the room in time to see Newton emerge from the bathroom.

Smiling, Hermann holds out Newton’s mug to him.

Newton shuffles over. “Thanks, babe.” He goes up on his toes and places a kiss right in the corner of Hermann’s mouth. It’s so intimate. “Sit on the bed and drink with me? Just a few minutes.”

Again, he can’t deny Newton much of anything now, so he nods and they climb up carefully. Nothing spilled, they relax and Hermann cradles the warm cup in his hands. Newton’s drinking his down like he’ll die if he doesn’t finish it in seconds.

With a cringe thinking of the temperature, Hermann asks, “Is that not too hot?”

Newton shakes his head and Hermann’s pretty sure the noise he makes is ‘no’ but he’s not positive real words were actually said. After another sip and a sound that’s clearly please, he says, “This is so good.” 

And the way he closes his eyes tight, breathing in the heat and scent of it, Hermann can’t help but stare. There’s something so enrapturing about Newton, and Hermann knows that it’s likely the newness of him. The early days of liking someone and everything that they do is captivating, but Hermann thinks he could remain awed at this creature for a long time. And suddenly he doesn’t want the weekend to end.

A blush stains Newt’s face. “What?”

Hermann smiles softly. “You’re quite handsome. It’s why I wanted to do this so badly.” He looks at the easel, sitting there waiting for him to immortalize this enrapturing creature and he  _ needs _ to do this. Perhaps this drawing will be all he has of Newton once they leave here.

Newt finishes his coffee and sets the mug on the bedside table. Hermann places his there as well as Newton gets up. Then Hermann’s eyes go wide as he slips his boxers off like it’s nothing. He watches Newton grab the sheet from the tangle of blankets on their bed and drapes it around himself, twisting about as he asks, “You wanted something like this, right?”

And that does something to him. Hermann feels a groan building and tries to muffle it in his throat, nodding. He crawls from the bed, unable to talk just yet and walks to the window. He needs his hands doing something so he draws the curtains and lets the growing faint light of morning into their room. Turning, he crooks his finger at Newton, ushering him over.

Hermann feels a jolt of electric desire as Newton places his hand in Hermann’s. Setting him on the stool, Hermann shuffles things around, taking too much pleasure in having his hands on Newt. It’s dancing all over again, each moving and responding to touches with ease. And when he’s all done moving the man about, Hermann leans in and places his lips gently on Newton’s. It’s a soft brush of skin, warm and sweet. The cloying scent of coffee hanging between their lips.

“You look perfect, darling.”

“Mm, do I?”

Of course he does, but Newt doesn’t seem to understand his attractiveness the way Hermann does. He nods as he looks Newt up and down. “Yes.” He steps around to his easel and grabs his pencils. “Don’t move.”

“Right.” Newton has about two seconds of not moving before he mutters, “Um…” He wiggles his nose and the glasses slip down his nose, but he doesn't move anything else.

With a sigh and a grin, Hermann comes over and gently adjusts the spectacles. “Better?” he asks, hands poised on either side of his face ready to fix it further if needed.

“Yeah.” 

Newt looks too cute, blushing like some sheepish child caught being naughty. Leaning down, Hermann plants a kiss on the tip of his nose and then settles behind the canvas.

Picking the right pencils, Hermann does a soft, barely there sketch of Newton’s general outline on the stool. His hand starts in big, loose swipes as he captures the size and placement. Then the lines get steadier, heavier, and the image of Newton is slowly building it’s way on the canvas. Hermann’s eyes move from canvas to person, mapping every inch of the man in front of him.

Every curve of his face, every freckle, ray of light across his skin, Hermann slowly builds with his pencils. Soft shading, heavy lines for the color of the tattoos, and he’s creating this creature of beauty on his canvas.

Newton is  _ movement _ . He’s fidgeting and talking with hands. He’s motion personified, but now, sitting still, he’s much more. Even in his stillness, there is movement in his form. There is action in his eyes, the way they look at Hermann. There’s movement in the riot of color across his skin, in the folds of the sheet as it clings about his form. Hermann has never seen something so active sitting so  _ still _ . It takes his breath away as he looks over Newton again, hand paused over the canvas.

Then something breaks.

There’s the sound of someone struggling to bring in a breath, then Newton is stumbling off of the stool with panic taking over his movements. Gone is the still. “I’m sorry, I just...I need a minute. I need to--”

Hermann immediately drops his pencils and goes forward, hands reaching for Newton in concern.

“Please don’t, uh, don’t touch me. I just…” 

Hermann snaps his hands back to himself and watches Newton flee, the sheets trailing behind as he goes for the bathroom, not looking at Hermann as he runs. What went wrong? Something, maybe the way Hermann looked at him. He watches the door shut and cringes a touch.

Taking a steadying breath, Hermann waits for the longest minute of his life. No movement and Newton doesn’t come out, doesn’t speak. There’s just the sound of harsh breathing, panic. Hermann approaches the door and gently knocks, just two taps so as not to overwhelm Newton. He keeps his voice as low as he can while still being heard, “Newton, are you alright? Did I do something wrong?”

Silence.

“New-Newton?” Hermann feels panic tightening his own throat now.

“No, it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I- I’ll be right out.”

Something happened, something Hermann cannot help him with. But perhaps he has someone he can talk to. “Do you want to call someone?” Hermann shuffles, his leg aching as he leans on the wall having left his cane behind in his hurry. “I can get your cell phone for you.”

He eyes the door handle. He knows it’s not locked, and everything in his body is urging him to go in and try to comfort Newton, but he doesn’t. This isn’t his place, especially if he’s set something off. He needs to give Newton someone else’s help.

“Yes, phone,” Newton croaks out.

Limping back toward their bags, Hermann riffles through Newton’s, trying not to snoop as he searches for the phone. He finds it near the bottom, and yanks it away and looks away from the bag. Grabbing his cane, Hermann goes back to the bathroom and hesitates. He can’t just open it up and barge in. that could set Newton off even more. Perhaps--

“Newton? I’ll just leave this on the floor here. I’m going to the kitchen to make a pot of tea, and I’ll sit on the couch out there. Alright?”

It’s quite for a moment, and as Hermann’s about to ask again, Newton speaks a single word. “Alright.”

It’s enough. So Hermann sets the phone next to the door and heads out to the living room. He realizes too late that he’s left his coffee behind. Hermann doesn’t want to go back in the room until Newton is ready to come out, so he decides to make a cup of tea instead.

He grabs his phone from the coffee table in the living room, thankful he’d left it there. Dialing Mako’s number, he puts the phone between his shoulder and ear and fills the tea kettle with water.

“Hermann? Is everything okay? You’re not supposed to be back yet.” Mako sounds concerned and Hermann tries not to let that increase his own worry.

“I’m fine, Mako. I’m still at the cabin with Newton, but--”

“What did he do?”

“What?” Hermann pulls the phone into his hand and straightens up. “Nothing. I think  _ I _ did something. He’s…” Hermann looks over his shoulder. “He’s had some sort of panic attack, I think. Newt shut himself in the bathroom, and I think it’s my fault.”

Mako sighs and he can hear her shuffling around her house. “What did  _ you _ do then?”

What did he do? Hermann shakes his head and grabs a new mug for his tea. “I’m not certain. We woke up early--”

“Yeah,” she says pointedly and he cringes at the time he’s calling her.

“Sorry, we woke early and I was drawing him.”

“Drawing him?”

Hermann sighs. Mako gets excited and interrupts with emotional outbursts often. “Yes. I was drawing him and suddenly he, I don’t know, panicked. We weren’t saying anything, so I don’t know what set him off.”

“Mm.” Mako hums a thoughtful noise and they fall to silence. Hermann can hear her putting a tea pot together, too. Miles and hours apart, the two putter about their respective kitchens getting their tea ready. Every heavy conversation needs tea, Hermann supposes. “What about the rest of the weekend? What’s happened?”

Hermann’s not really sure where to start. There seems to be so much packed into just a couple of days. Any of it may have set him off. “We’ve...been intimate again. And decided to see where things go.”

“Um, what does that mean exactly?”

With a sigh, Hermann pours hot water into the mug and shakes his head. “Honestly? I don’t know. That’s possibly what’s wrong. We both seem to want something here but aren’t sure how to make that happen, per se. We may  _ want _ something more, but what does that mean?”

“Well.” Mako gives him a silent beat. “Have you asked him?”

“No.” Hermann removes the tea bag and heads for the couch. He needs to sit for this. “I wanted to talk more about it today, I suppose, but we didn’t get that far. It was only last night that we decided to ‘give it our all’ this weekend.”

“Look, I know you Hermann. This isn’t something you can just brush past and see what happens. You need some guidelines, some pathway to  _ something _ , and you can only get that by talking to him. Promise me you’ll talk? I know you don’t like to but it’s important. If you’ve really got something here with him, talk.”

The soft sounds of Newton coming from the room put a quick pace to his heart. “He’s coming out. I have to go.”

“Promise me, Hermann Gottlieb!”

Newton is standing a few feet away, giving him just enough space to be polite so Hermann says, “I promise I’ll talk to him. Yeah, goodbye Miss Mori.”

“I love you, Hermann. Now go, figure this out.”

“Thank you, Mako.”

“You’re welcome. Text me!”

Hermann shuts his phone off, grips his cane, and stands up to assess Newton. He looks...okay. “Newton. Are you alright, darling?”

Newton nods. “Yes, can we talk?”

“Of course.” Hermann gestures to the couch. “Sit with me?”

When Newton strolls forward and comes to the couch, Hermann feels himself letting out a breath he was holding, having half expected Newton to decline, to sit in a chair away from him.  _ Talk _ could mean so many things, and while Hermann knew how he wanted to approach this, he had to let Newton have his piece first.

Newton sits quite close. When Hermann sinks back down, Newt sits close enough that their legs touch, and that seems positive. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Hermann says softly.

“There’s a lot I feel I need to talk about, and I’m not really sure where to start. But I want to work through some things with you before this weekend ends.” Newton places a hand on Hermann’s leg.

Again, this feels positive, so Hermann’s panic isn’t as strong as it was. He’s sure that this will be something tough, but there’s a bit of hope in Newton’s body language. “Sure.” He puts his hand on Newton’s, twining their fingers together.

Newton squeezes his hand back. “I had a really shit experience recently, before taking your job.” He takes a breath and Hermann knows this is going to start off as a good conversation, no matter how much hope there is behind the intentions. “I love my job. I’ve told you about that already, and this, I mean it’s  _ safe _ usually. We have so many protections in place but this time.” He’s not looking at Hermann now, just staring down at his feet. “Shit just went wrong. The guy was a piece of shit. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt…”

Hermann tries not to move, not to reach out and comfort yet, not to breathe too loudly. Newton looks to be on the edge of everything, ready to break in a second. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and keeps his eyes on Newton’s face.

“I felt scared. In danger, and I don’t want to feel that again.” He takes in a shuddery breath. “I like how I feel with you, though. And I like what I had before  _ him _ . And now, I’m just not sure where to go with everything, but I don’t think I can stand my entire world crashing around my ears, you know?”

That’s definitely something Hermann can relate to. His entire world crashing around him in the screech of tires, the smash of metal. “Yes, I know. So,” he hazards a guess here because it feels like something unspoken but hinted through their flirting. “So you don’t want to stop whatever this is while you’re struggling with continuing or stopping the job you’ve dedicated so much time to.”

The breath Newton lets out sounds like one of relief, like he wasn’t expecting the conversation to go this way and is in absolute bliss at hearing those words. “Exactly.”

“Well,” Hermann smiles now and tries to catch Newton’s eyes. “I don’t really want this to be over either. I don’t know what it is or where it will go necessarily but…”

“Fortune favors the brave, dude.”

With a put upon sigh, Hermann shakes his head. “ _ Dude _ .” He laughs though. “I don’t know how brave I am.”

“You went skinny dipping. We fucked outside. You  _ thieved _ .” Newton is giggling now, his voice pitching up with his list. 

“Don’t say it like that!” Hermann smacks his arm and then immediately caresses it. “I’m just borrowing the things. I’ll return it.”

Newton’s eyebrows raise up over the rim of his glasses and his lips purse before he asks, “You’re going to return the canvas?”

Hermann sits up taller and frowns intensely. “Absolutely not. It’s a work of art now and coming home with me.”

“You know,” Newton’s voie drops an octave now. He sidles up closer and Hermann feels the heat of him along his side. “You have the real thing you can take home, too.”

And stars, doesn’t he want to do just that? Hermann lifts his hand and places along Newton’s jaw. He pulls him close and kisses him deeply. They fall back against the back of the couch and lose themselves to the kissing for a time. After a time, Newton has ended up straddling Hermann’s legs and his face is tucked into Hermann’s neck while Hermann runs his hands up and down Newton’s back. It’s warm and comfortable and Hermann doesn’t want to move for anything.

Against his neck, Newton speaks up again. “Herms?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Thank you. I--I know I’ll have more issues with what happened, and maybe I’ll talk about it, I just, um, thanks for listening.” His voice is so soft against his Hermann’s skin, breath flushing against his pulse. 

“Of course. I hope you feel comfortable talking to me.” Hermann runs his hand up Newton’s spine and clasps the back of his neck, his fingers tracing through the short hairs at the back of his head. “I will help any way I can.”

“Just keep being you, Herms.”

Hermann feels him squirm possibly with a shiver as he drags his blunt nails down his neck and between his shoulder blades. “I can do that. Newton?”

“Hmm?”

“What would you like to do today?” Hermann isn’t really ready to move yet, but he wants to treat Newton today. He’s taken too much this weekend.

Newt sits up carefully and places his hands on Hermann’s shoulders as he looks him in the eyes. “Okay, hear me out.”

Hermann’s face crumples at this because he just  _ knows _ , he’s not going to like whatever Newton has in mind. “Yes?”

“It’s our last day.”

He doesn’t say anything further so Hermann nods, urging him on.

“We should go troll the couple’s session thing.

Yes, he’s going to despise this, but that hopeful grin on Newton’s face is too much to resist. Besides, he hasn’t let Hermann down so far with the slushies, s’mores outside, sex beside the lake… This  _ could _ end up being really amusing.

“Fine.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Day at the Cabin.

The room for the couple’s session is in the main building again, and this time they bypass the front desk, likely to Gertrude’s relief. Newt chuckles as he sees her eyes go wide at their entrance, but he just gives a wave and she settles. He follows Hermann as they make their way back down the now-familiar hallway. They pass the art room and Newt can’t help a small jab, touching the back of his hand against Hermann’s arm.

“Got the urge to steal again?” He’s quiet about it, sure that Hermann would not appreciate someone overhearing this conversation.

“Newton Geiszler,” Hermann says as he plants his cane with a determined  _ thunk _ . He raises his hand as he speaks. “I am  _ this _ close to turning back and abandoning this idea.” He brings his forefinger and thumb together.

“Um, they’re touching.”

“Exactly.” Still, instead of turning around to leave, Hermann slips his arm through Newt’s and keeps on down the hall toward a room with another sign on it.

The sign doesn’t have glitter and bright colors. Instead, it’s a slightly smudged printed sign that reads ‘Welcome! to Couple’s Paradise.’ Newt glances at Hermann and lifts an eyebrow. He watches Hermann’s face scrunch even more, like he was sucking on a particularly sour lemon. 

“Oh come on, this is going to be great!” Newt nudges.

Hermann simply grunts and lets Newt open the door for them. Inside, the other two couples are already seated. There is a small loveseat open, set up as part of the circled, mismatched arrangement of seats. In an overstuffed armchair is a woman with big, owlish glasses, frizzy tawny hair, and enough bangles to sound like a full brass band every time she moves in her seat. Newt immediately loves her and can't wait for whatever this is going to be. The absolute caricatures that make up Redwood Getaway are likely half the draw for people to come again.

"Welcome, welcome! Please, take a seat and we can begin." The woman has a voice like a frog. "We have a beautiful journey ahead of us, Love Adventures! I’m Emmy, and I will be your Adventure Guide. Are we ready?" As she rubs her hands together, the jewelry rings out a cacophony of noise, and the way she says ‘Love Adventures’ sounds like some sort of title. 

Hermann jumps slightly at the sudden noise, and Newt puts a hand to his lower back, rubbing a gentle circle. He can feel the man settle immediately into the touch, and that warms a large part of Newton's chest. They sit together, Hermann pressing his bad leg tightly against Newt's. And Newt hasn't taken his arm away from Hermann's back as Hermann leans forward on the seat.

“Wonderful, shall we start with some introductions?” Emmy is still smiling widely, blinking at each of them as she speaks. “Names, how we met, how long we’ve been together?”

Newt wonders if they should lie about anything. Their meeting isn’t exactly typical, and they haven’t ‘been together’ for an entire day yet. He side-eyes Hermann, already coming up with an elaborate tale. For his part, Hermann is sitting in what looks like mild panic, and he turns large eyes at Newton. Offering him a wink, Newt decides on the fabricated stories. He’s good at that sort of thing.

Emmy looks over with her owlish eyes at the two of them and smiles at Newton. “How about you two? You look like a new couple, madly in love, yes?”

With the bravado he reserves for his job, Newt sits up taller and snatches Hermann’s hand, wriggling his fingers in between Hermann’s. “Yep! It’s been a whirlwind romance really. I mean, look at this guy, isn’t he just the handsomest?” He can feel Hermann’s hand tighten in his and keeps himself from looking over in case Hermann tries to get him to stop. “My car broke down a few weeks ago. What? Five weeks, no six. And there’s this cozy looking house right there so I go up and knock and bam!” Newt is using his hands to talk, gestures flying as quickly as his words. “Hermann Gottlieb opens the door and the smell of steak hits me. I don’t know how I managed to talk my way inside, but he invited me in for dinner, dancing in the living room and the most intense scientific debate I’ve had since working on my thesis.”

There’s a tightening of Hermann’s hand around Newt’s and it’s painful enough that he finally looks over. He offers what he hopes is a heart-melting smile, batting his lashes, and really just working it like he’s never worked it before. He’s rewarded with Hermann simmering into something of a smile, and then the man looks down as if he’s actually bashful. The way his cheeks tinge pinkly, Newt is sure he’s feeling rather bashful, but he doesn’t seem upset, so Newton keeps going.

“And so we dated a bit. I text a lot, but Hermann hates it. Says it’s an inferior way of communicating, so I don’t get a lot of immediate responses. But then he calls after work and complains about his students, about how he should be researching and not spending time in a classroom which he absolutely  _ loathes _ and thinks the Dean’s just punishing him. Okay, off tangent. Anyway, he surprised me with a reservation here, and really we’ve just been falling more and more in love as the weekend goes by.” He looks over at Hermann again, nudging up against his shoulder. “Right babe?”

Hermann gives one of his loud, put-upon sighs and pats the back of Newt’s hand. “That’s the sum of it, yes, darling.” 

And he’s looking at Newt now with something like awe in his eyes. There’s a spark there that Newt has seen a couple of times now- after trying the slushie, before tumbling together on the shore of the lake, and when coming back from stealin the art supplies. He’s feeling playful. 

Good, because Newt’s not sure where this is going, but it’s going to be fun that’s for sure. 

“Oh, very new lovebirds. How wonderful.” Emmy jangles as she pulls out a packet of papers from next to her in the chair. “I think  _ this _ is best suited for new lovers.” She hands them over to Newt as though this were the obvious direction of the...class? Whatever this was.

He takes them from her and sees the title page is slightly smudged like the sign on the door; something with her printer, he guesses. The title reads “Love Adventures: Getting to Know Your Partner” and it’s thick. Newt has to let go of Hermann’s hand to hold onto it properly. “Uh, thanks?” He glances up but Emmy’s moved on.

“And which couple has been together the longest?” She’s not even subtle in the way she eyes the older couple who’ve taken up a couch and aren’t sitting anywhere nearly as close as Newt and Hermann to each other. Charles and Susan, his mind supplies.

They glance at the young couple who shrug, and the young woman says. “We’ve got four years.”

Susan sighs and resigns herself to being the experienced one. “Nineteen years next week.”

“Oh? Happy anniversary!” Emmy claps her hands and bounces in her seat. Newt really likes her energy. “What a wonderful amount of time to get to know one another.” And then she’s digging again in her bag. “Tell me, married? Living together? How’d you meet?”

Charles takes over when Susan rolls her eyes. “I met Susan at a work conference. Susan was presenting an HR training I had to attend, and I was so enraptured with her that I asked her out for a drink afterward. She gave some cock-and-bull story about having to meet up with a friend--”

“Which was a lie, and then Charles found me out on my own at a club that night.” Susan laughs and they finally move closer together, the memory dragging up some feelings, no doubt. 

Newt likes the story so far. He pushes his glasses up his nose and rubs his shoulder against Hermann’s. He feels the rumble of Hermann humming in recognition of the touch.

Susan continues, “He came over with two drinks, asked how my friend was, and I panicked. Told him she got sick so I came out to drink my woes away, and he left. Sat a drink down and just left!”

Charles laughs. They all do. “Well, you clearly didn’t want me around, so.”

“So, I chased after him because he was handsome, and I thought why not? He’s here, I’m here.”

“It almost didn’t work out though. She’s got two left feet and stepped on my feet so many times that night…”

They trail off, lost in thought they’re not sharing with the group. And Emmy takes the pause to hand over another packet. This one isn’t as thick, but that’s not saying much. “Sounds like you could use this one.”

Newt glances the title, “Love Adventures: Rekindling The Age Old Spark.” He nearly snorts out loud, but Hermann must anticipate this because he jabs an elbow into Newt’s side and stares at him pointedly. Giving him a little shrug and slyly raised eyebrow makes Hermann settle, and he sets his hand down on Newton’s thigh. 

“Let me see that,” he whispers, nodding to the packet Newt still holds.

Newt hands it over, and then it’s the young couple’s turn. He listens, but his attention is on Hermann now, as subtly as he can manage. From side glances, he sees Hermann’s long fingers flipping the pages, eyes scanning whatever lies within. Newt can’t help but remember those damned fingers inside of him, twisting an orgasm from him. He wonders if that’s something they’ll do again. The way Hermann had asked had been soft, feeling out boundaries they were still getting used to with each other. Newt is excited to explore more of that, in more places than just the bedroom. He wants to see Hermann lost in something he cares about, so entangled in some research or project, cooking maybe, that the rest of the world fades away and it was just Hermann and what he was doing. Newt wants to peek in on that and just watch. 

And suddenly, since last night, it seems like this was actually a possibility. That is as terrifying as it is exciting. Newton is starting to realize he comes with some baggage he hasn't gotten over yet. And that is going to be something that he will have to work out with Hermann. What if something about that is in that stupid packet they were just handed? What if he’s led them right to the core of the issues with himself on their very first day together and Hermann learns everything he needs to know to not want to be with Newton?

A hand settles on his leg again, softly squeezing, and the feeling drags him out of the intensity of the panic just enough for him to take a breath and see the world about himself. Hermann is looking at him with a concerned frown. 

“Do you want to step out for a moment, darling?” he murmurs so only the two of them can hear.

Newt thinks he manages to nod his head, but he’s not sure. Whatever he’s done, Hermann picks up on it and grabs his cane, taking to his feet. Emmy looks over at them with her mouth in a questioning ‘oh’. 

“Pardon us, I’ve just realized I left the kettle on in our cabin. So sorry to rush out,” he says, taking the attention away from falling on Newt. 

It’s enough. Somehow in the daze of panic, he knows that following Hermann is going to get him out of this. So he stands, waves to the group, and lets Hermann take his arm. They walk quickly out of the room to a cacophony of concerned comments, but Newt comprehends none of them. His focus is one foot in front of the other.

How can he be so stupid? He should not be panicking like this on a job. He’s never had this problem before. He’s always been professional and able to ignore any outside feelings or influences. This isn’t a job anymore, though, is it? And ever since meeting Hermann, he’s been tossed off track. He can’t see which way is up anymore. 

No, not Hermann. Yes, Hermann gave him lowered inhibitions and strong feelings, but this panic isn’t from Hermann. It’s that night he doesn’t want to remember. And now he’ll have to. He’ll have to talk about this, but he’s not ready. He’s also not ready to lose Hermann who he’s just gotten, but it seems like one of the two will happen today. 

The car door is in front of him. Hermann’s hand is on the handle, pulling it open and shuffling Newton to one side. Newt’s supposed to get in, isn’t he? He looks over at Hermann who offers a hand and nods a little toward the front seat. Breathe. One breath, take in a breath. Newt sucks in the air and all but collapses into the front seat. He’s aware of the sound of the car door shutting. They’re half-way down the roadway back to the cabin before sound registers again. Hermann’s speaking. Softly.

“Almost back at the cabin, darling. You’re doing just fine.” 

Newton looks over, mouth slightly open and his eyebrows collapse in question. “What?”

Hermann risks a quick glance over then back to the road. “Oh good.” His lips are pulled thin in something like a smile. “We’re almost back to the cabin, then we’ll settle in with some tea and give you a moment to just breathe, yes?”

“Um, right.”

That sounds good because Newt’s brain feels like static currently; a t.v. trying to connect to some wavelength that just isn’t there. The suffocating thoughts have turned to mush and he lets himself be led along. Inside, he sinks into the couch and watches Hermann shuffle into the kitchen.

“I’ve only brought along Earl Grey and a sweet herbal. Which would you prefer, Newt?”

Newt. He feels his heart patter a bit too quickly. “Herbal, please.” Something sweet sounds nice. Like Hermann. He’s sweet. “Are you mad at me?”

Hermann nearly drops the teapot as he spins. The cane does fall, clattering like thunder to the floor. “No! Absolutely not. You’re having a panic attack, Newton. It’s not something you can help, and I’m not upset.” He stoops out of view for a second, retrieving his cane. The sunlight from the window shines through in his absence, casting a surprisingly bright ray of light into Newt’s eyes. He glances away with a grimace. Then Hermann comes back up with a look of concern, face drawn with lips pursed. “I think we should talk about it, but I’m not upset. You got me out of the horrid little couple’s session after all.” The concern turns to a smile. 

Newton thinks the grin Hermann gives is supposed to be playful, but it comes off a little strained. Still, it puts Newton more at ease. His chest is still constricted tightly enough that breathing hurts, and his head is pounding with the oncoming feelings of a migraine, but the thoughts are coming back to normal now. Hermann is not upset. This was a temporary panic that can be dealt with.

“It wasn’t that bad.” He tries out a teasing tone and it nearly sounds right. “You still have the packet?”

Hermann rolls his eyes. “On the coffee table. I should have thrown it away.” He turns now, seemingly satisfied with Newt’s responses, and returns to making some tea. “You’re not seriously interested in whatever drivel is inside, are you darling?”

“Maybe.” Newt picks up the packet and leafs through briefly. A lot of questions to ask your partner, some bonding exercises. Newt thinks that it’s something he’d like to hang on to. For later, not today. Their last day here. “We still haven’t gone over our work.”

“Mm.” The tea kettle is whistling and the sounds of cups clatter on the counter. Hermann doesn’t comment further until he’s coming out of the kitchen with two steaming cups of tea. “And you haven’t talked to me yet.”

At this, Newton looks down at his lap. He knows, logically, that Hermann won’t judge him for this. He’ll want to work through it with him and help Newt. At least, that’s what everything up to this point has shown he’ll do, but there’s still a fear of rejection or disbelief. They’ve only known each other a short time, and Newt hasn’t seen the complete scope of Hermann’s reactions or thoughts. He can’t completely say that Hermann wouldn’t react poorly to this. And how’s he going to react when Newt says he wants to keep working at Shatter, even while they are trying to date?

“No, I haven’t. I’m...not so sure now.”

Hermann sets the teacups down on the coffee table and sits next to Newt, not touching but not precisely distant. Respectful, maybe. “I would not want to push, Newton, but I would like to say something at least. You needn’t answer if you don’t feel up to it, but I would be remiss not to try.”

He would be remiss, huh? Newt almost laughs at this. “Alright.”

“We met just weeks ago, but have been drawn back together, it would seem. I’m very happy about that because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that first night. I compared everyone I dated to you, and no one matched up.” He grabs his tea, cupping it in a comforting manner. “And even now, even after we’ve decided to give this a go, I can’t help but think how you will grow bored of me. How you’ll want something more.”

Newt frowns, very confused at where this is going. He thought Hermann was going to ask him questions about what might be wrong. Or insist on Newt talking like Hermann did. This, well, he’s not sure where this is going.

Hermann takes in a breath and keeps going. “But you seem genuinely excited about me, and that’s amazing to me. I find you absolutely fascinating, and I want to be someone who’s there for you, in whatever trouble you’re going through, just as you’ve been there for me the last couple of days.” 

He sets the cup back down and turns to Newt now, setting a hand on his knee. Newt feels the warmth seep through to his skin and he likes how it feels there. Newt looks up into Hermann’s eyes, seeing such sincerity there.

“But, it has just been days really, considering the absence in between, and I couldn’t ask such confidence from you right away. Just know that I would listen,  _ want _ to listen, and help in whatever way I can. It doesn’t have to be today, or even a week from now, but when you’re ready and need someone to talk to, that’s what I want to be for you.”

The panic attack has left Newton tired, and when he’s tired, he’s more susceptible to emotion. Everything Hermann’s just poured out to him is fraying at those emotional ends Newt is trying to hold together; he  _ wants _ to tell someone about his worries. He wants to tell  _ Hermann _ , but he’s still scared what that will mean for them. So, he just nods and bites his lip. “Thank you, Hermann. I’ll--not yet, but eventually.”

Hermann pats his knee then leans across the space and places a soft kiss to his cheek. “And I’ll be here, darling.”

Fuck, Newt wants to curl up and cry. Instead, he turns and pulls Hermann into a proper kiss. They lose themselves to it for a long moment before both settling and picking up their tea.

“You mentioned work. We  _ did _ say it was something we’d do this weekend,” Hermann says, breaking the quiet. “Something you’re still up for?”

“Absolutely,” Newt says excitedly. It will be a welcome distraction. And the work has been something they’ve easily bonded over each time. He wants that connection again to drive out the questions he’s not ready to face. “You brought your research?”

“Mhm, and you brought your paper?”

Newt nods and they’re both getting up now, tea forgotten for the moment as they go to their bags to riffle through for their work. “If you need to get your papers for grading, I can help with that, too.”

“I may take you up on that.” Hermann pulls out a large packet of papers and a smaller folder. “They’re just reports, nothing difficult. Just time consuming.”

“Time you could use to look at  _ my _ work,” Newt says with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Hermann laughs brightly and shakes his head a little. “Your work would be more interesting.”

“Oh, come on. You have to have some interesting students.” Newt leads them back out to the couch. “You can’t let your annoyance over teaching make you miss out on bonding with some great minds. Just think, you could have a Newton Geiszler sitting in your room one day and completely miss out on cultivating a bright mind.”

The grumbles he makes could have been argument or agreement, but either way Hermann sits much closer to Newt this time. “Fine, you take the reports and tell me if I have a Newton Geiszler in my classroom.”

Grinning, Newt does take the reports. Sadly, he does not find himself in those pages. However, they are some pretty well done reports. Newt even has to look some things up since physics isn’t something he’s dabbled in for a while now. Brushing up on some terms, he finds grading the things (with Hermann’s guidance and frequent interjections) isn’t that hard. Meanwhile, next to him, Hermann is reading through a new paper Newt wants to publish. The amount of red-pen, okay it’s a blue pen, is becoming more and more daunting every time Newt glances over. 

“Don’t worry. Your paper isn’t bad, Newt. I just want to ensure it’s perfect.” Hermann proceeds to scratch a line through and entire three lines before scribbling a paragraph in the margins. “Just some rewording. You’re emphatically yourself, even in writing, and while it’s absolutely endearing to me, there are places you really should lean more heavily on logic.”

“Killing my darlings for me?” Newt asks, wagging his eyebrows at Hermann.

At this, Hermann sets his pen to the side and turns more of his body to look at Newton. “And who, pray tell, do you say said this originally?”

Ah, a debate! The look paired with the tone tells Newt this is a test of sorts. This could be their first real disagreement, and the exhaustion that’s been setting recedes in the rush that this brings. “Well, kill your darlings is up for debate, but ‘murder your darlings’, the original, was Arthor Quiller-Couch in his Cambridge lecture. The one where he was talking about style.”

Hermann sniffs, nods once, then turns back to the paper. “If you had said Fualkner or Wilde, I might have had to leave you here.” He scritches the pen across the paper again, adding some note Newt will study later.

Newt just grins. “What if I’d said Ginsberg?” This doesn’t even get him a glance. “Stephen King?”

“I enjoyed his addition to the sentiment.”

This shocks Newt, and he stares gape-mouthed a moment. “Really?”

“Mhm. ‘even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings’,” he recites as though reading poetry.

Now Newt really wants to hear him recite poetry with that damned voice. “Whoa, wait a second. You sounded like you like that quite a bit, and uh, I’m just a little concerned with how much you call me darling.”

“If I haven’t killed you yet, I’m not likely to.”

“Sure,” Newt snorts. “Just wait until you get to know me better. Wait until you have to wake up next to me in your house.” It sort of popped out, not something he meant to say or imply yet.

But Hermann smiles. “I can’t wait, darling. It’s been a pleasure waking up to you here.” He shifts on the couch and presses their legs together, their shoulders. “Let’s finish this up, eat something, and do one last thing here. What do you say?”

“Sure. Whatcha thinking?” Newt slips an arm around Hermann’s back again, liking the way he leans into Newt’s embrace and lets him rub circles over his lower back.

“I’d like to go up to that meadow one more time, if that’s alright.”

So they do. They both eat some lunch rather quickly, then stash some water bottles in a bag, and start hiking up the trail again. Hermann’s back in jeans, and Newt enjoys the view when he takes the lead up the trail. All those angles. Simply perfect. They’re careful again when the trail narrows, and the meadow is empty. After a water bottle is emptied and put back in the bag, they sprawl in the grass, heads next to each other and legs stretched out opposite one another. 

“It’s really beautiful up here,” Hermann says in nearly a whisper. “I enjoy being able to leave the city now and again. It’s been some time since I’ve left and just enjoyed nature. Thank you for coming with me.”

Newt turns his head toward Hermann. “Thanks for having me along. I, seriously, really needed this.” He leans across the small space and brushes his lips over Hermann’s who kisses back. It’s a warm, soft kiss, if not a little awkward at their angle. It’s one of Newt’s favorites so far. The grass tickles his cheek as he closes his eyes and runs a tongue over Hermann’s lips. He pulls away enough to whisper in their shared breath, “So, we’re like, boyfriends right?”

Blinking eyes widened with shock, Hermann stares for a moment. He must see some panic setting in Newton because in a rush of movement and words, Hermann rolls over to look down at Newt’s face and says, “Yes. Absolutely, yes. That’s what we decided this morning, right? We’re...dating. This thing, whatever it’s going to be, we’re dating.” Then he’s leaning down and they’re kissing again.

Newt like this. It was exactly what he’d wanted to hear, and Hermann had been so adamant about it. When they pull back, Hermann hovers there for a moment before rolling back over and lounging again. 

“You know, it’s quite alright with me if you keep working at Shatter.”

“Really?” Newt’s not sure where this topic is coming from, but he’s happy to hear that. He’s been debating his future himself, but to have support like that certainly calms a large part of himself. “I won’t have the intimate option on my profile any more, of course.”

“Naturally,” Hermann says as though this were nothing of consequence.

“And you don’t mind that I’ll be out sort of...dating other men?”

There’s the sound of a sigh, nearly lost on the soft breeze blowing over the meadow. “I really don’t mind. I’ve seen you in your professional mode and outside of it, I think. I’ve listened to you discuss how you feel about your job. I think, perhaps, I will have some jealousy down the line, but it would be something I would discuss with you and work past, not use against you.” Then his voice becomes emphatic. “And if I ever did, you must call me out on that immediately, you understand?”

Newt chuckles. “Yeah, dude, sure.”

“I’m serious,” Hermann says, reaching up and putting a hand to Newton’s cheek. “That would be unfair of me.”

“Okay. I promise to call you out if you try to use jealousy against me.” Newton pats his hand, both wanting to show his seriousness but also keep things lighter. “And I promise in return that when er, when I need to talk about my stuff, you'll be the first I come to.”

“Deal.” 

Turning his head so his lips are at Hermann’s palm, he plants a kiss there. “Deal. Hey, so your new theory. You’re going to have to use an ACIS to run your tests, right?”

“Er, yes. Why?”

Newt shrugs, the grass beneath him making a rustling feeling through his clothes. “Scientific fascination. I’ve never gotten to see or use one and want to test the waters on seeing how difficult it would be to talk you into getting me in with you when you go to use it. X-raying the universe. Like, dude, who wouldn’t want to try that?”

Hermann shifts a bit as well, clearly looking for some sign that Newt is joking. He won’t find any hint of that. “Um, I honestly don’t know how difficult it would be to get you along with me.” He narrows his eyes, a suspicious look. “But I think I like the idea of you being interested enough to want to come along.”

“Hmm. Easier than I thought it would be. So, do you have work friends?”

“Sort of.” Hermann clears his throat. “There’s Miss Mori. We went through a program in grad school together.”

Newt’s eyebrow shoots up. “Miss Mori? So formal.”

“It works for us. But Mako, then. I’m sure she’ll insist you call her so, and I’m even more sure you wouldn’t be one to speak so formally.” He gives a snort of a sound and his fingers are back at Newt’s cheek. They trace gently over his jaw. 

“What makes you say that, Herms?”

Hermann laughs outright at that. “Herms. You really ask that question with the answer in it?”

Newt chuckles with him and closes his eyes at the feeling of the fingers dancing over his face. “Mako. Okay, but you don’t work with her. What’s she do?”

“She’s also a professor, actually. At a college, and works with a lot of local businesses to get students contacts for when they graduate.” He sighs and brings his fingers to Newton’s lips now, running across the bottom one, back and forth. “She’s very involved in the community and social things that I’m not great at.”

“Mm.” Newt is lost in the feel of the fingers on his lips. “No one else?”

“Sure, a few coworkers and I get along.” His voice changes a little now. “A lot of friends I had through Vanessa aren’t around any more.”

“I’m sorry.” Newt kisses Hermann’s fingertips, holding his hand still so he could press more kisses against his palm. 

Hermann holds his hand still for him. “It’s fine. They aren’t people I would necessarily get along with on my own. Too much the fancy party types.”

“Aww, but that sounds like fun. Getting you all dressed up and showing you off somewhere fancy.” Newt lets his hand go and snags a piece of grass like last time, twirling it in his fingers. “Can I meet Mako?”

“Mhm. She’ll insist upon it once she finds out we’re actually dating.”

“Heh, good.”

“And what about you?”

Newt turns his voice sly, casting it a little lower than usual. “What  _ about  _ me?”

“Newton Geiszler, do you have any friends who can put up with this insolence?”

With a laugh, “Well, you seem to enjoy it.” He swears he hears a whispered, ‘I do’, but it’s very quiet. “But yeah, the Kaidonovskys mostly.”

“I remember that name. Is that who you called?”

“Yeah. Sacha’s probably my best friend, but only because she talks more than Aleksis, which really isn’t saying much.” Newt drags the piece of grass up Hermann’s arm, not that he feels it considering the sweater covering his beautiful, pale skin. “They’ll want to meet you as well. They’ve been a big part of my life since joining Shatter.”

“What about that friend who got you into Shatter to begin with? The one you hired for the conference?” Hermann tugs his shirt sleeve up so Newton can actually run the grass over his skin. 

The fact that he remembered how Newton got into the escort business paired with that gesture was just too sweet. “Oh, he left Shatter, got a degree in something with computers I think. Last I heard he was marrying his high school sweetheart and moved to like, Switzerland or something crazy.”

“Oh.” Hermann chuckles and shakes his head. “The Kaidonovskys are the only friends of note?”

“Pretty much. I mean, a few friends that I talk to on social media, meet up with for drinks or something every now and then.”

At this, Hermann flips over again and looks down at Newton. He’s got an arm on either side of his head and is staring down into his eyes. “That’s quite odd. You’re so vibrant, I expected hordes of friends I’d have to compete with to have your undivided attention.”

“Vibrant, huh?”

“Mhm. I, well I have to adjust some of my ideas about you.”

Newt blushes. “Not too many, I hope.”

Hermann leans down and kisses him. “Not any that change that matters.”

“What does that mean?” Newt’s face crumples in confusion.

“That the rearranging of some of my thoughts about you doesn’t change my feelings about you.”

“Oh. Well, good.” He watches as Hermann climbs to his feet, leaning on the cane and looking down at Newt. “Whatcha doin?”

“Can you join me up here?” Hermann’s cheeks are burning all of a sudden.

There isn’t much reason for him to be embarrassed, and that makes Newt curious. So he gets to his feet and brushes the back of his pants off. He watches Hermann roll his sleeve back down and fish his phone out of his pocket. After a moment, some piano music starts playing from the phone, music with a pretty nice beat to dance to. Newt’s face splits into a happy smile and after Hermann sets the cane and phone down carefully, Newt starts for his shoes, chucking them off.

“If we’re dancing, I’m going barefoot. You should, too, babe. The grass feels nice,” he says as he buries his toes in the silken strands.

Hermann looks skeptical for a moment, but then stoops to take his shoes off. Newt moves over to help him stay steady as he works his feet free. Then they're both standing barefoot as music sounds through the meadow, and it’s Hermann who makes the first move and takes the lead.

Newton is happy to be lead, to just be swept up in Hermann’s arms and be danced through the grass and flowers. He tips his head onto Hermann’s shoulder and feels an arm wrap tighter around his back. They’re pressed so closely together, Newt can feel each movement Hermann makes. The back and forth rhythm, the give and take, works perfectly. Anything Newt might have forgotten about dancing in the time he’s spent  _ not _ dancing, Hermann makes up for. A slight bit of pressure moves them one way or the other, and Newt really hopes this becomes a thing for them.

The grass does feel nice under their feet. The breeze is chilly, but the warmth of body heat pressed between them keeps away any cold. They may have decided to date, but Newt is still going to miss this weekend, this wilderness they’re losing themselves in. It’s a perfect place to fall into a rose-colored idea of their budding romance, and the fear of losing that lens looms in the back of Newton’s mind.

“You’re thinking really loudly,” Hermann whispers in his ear.

“Stupid insecurities.”

“Like what?” His voice is still soft, but there’s an edge of sincerity there; Hermann wants to know what’s bothering him.

“What this is all going to be like once we leave here.”

Hermann makes a soft humming sound and is quiet for a moment as he searches for the right thing to say perhaps. “I don’t think that’s a stupid thought. This is a specifically designed weekend, and we’ll be going back to the regular stresses of our lives.” 

He’s quiet again, but Newt gets the feeling he’s thinking of something he wants to add, so Newt stays quiet for now as well, rocking with him as their dancing has slowed to something more like just moving together while they contend with their thoughts. 

“We haven't experienced each other outside of some fairly consistent, relaxed parameters. We’re bound to stumble a bit while we find our noral out...there,” he says and gestures vaguely at the world.

The absence of the hand, even for just a moment, puts a chill up Newton’s back. He shudders at the cold and nods. “Good point. I don’t look forward to that stumbling part you mentioned though.”

“It’s just another way we'll get to know more about each other.”

“For all the negative thoughts you deal with about yourself, you’re a very optimistic person, Hermann Gottlieb.” Newt thinks this a good thing. He likes the positive outlook on the world and wishes he could apply that more to himself. Hopefully Hermann could help with that.

“Mm, I don’t know about that. I’m more confident in my ability to work on things with those close to me, but I don’t have much hope in most of the rest of the world.” Hermann takes a breath and sweeps them back up in their dancing as the phone plays the next song in the list; a violin piece, cheery enough that it gets them moving a bit faster, and paying more attention to their steps than their fears. When it ends, Hermann drops Newton’s hand, but he keeps a hand on his lower back. Space, but not too much. “What’s brought up these fears anyway?”

Newt shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think too much sometimes.”

Hermann nods. “That’s fine. And you can always share those with me, if you want.”

“Thanks babe.”

The sun is getting low in the sky. They have a few hours of sunlight left it would seem. A few hours left here. 

“We should probably head back down.” Hermann seems just as reluctant to leave as Newton feels.

“Yeah,” Newt agrees though. 

They fetch Hermann’s cane, the bag with the water, and start slowly back down the pathways. They’ve both fallen quiet as they walk and Newt has a hand in Hermann’s the whole time. It feels like some childish statement; if I don’t let go, this can’t end. If it’s childish, so what. It’s what Newt needs right now.

Back at the cabin, they both stand in the living room and look around. “Should we pack?” Newt asks though he’s not particularly looking forward to that part.

“Probably. And make sure we put the art supplies on the table to be found by the staff.” Hermann flushes, apparently still embarrassed by his thieving. “Should we eat something before we leave?”

“What about indulging in bad fast food?” Newt waggles his eyebrows, nearly one hundred percent sure Hermann will scowl and huff and say no.

He does scowl. He does huff. Then, “Fine. I think there were a few places just off the ramp from the highway.”

“What, really?” Newt gives a whoop and jumps around in victory. “You’re the best, Herms. Come on, let’s pack. I’m suddenly hungry.” 

Hermann shakes his head at the antics, but he follows along. They get packed up fairly quickly, and Newt is carrying the heavier of the suitcases out to the car while Hermann packs away the kitchen supplies. Sticking the suitcases in the trunk, Newt shuts them in and steps back a moment. This is happening. He’s used the food as an excitement to look forward to, but they’re about to leave. They’re about to completely separate from the work aspect of this, from Shatter, and be something outside of that.

Newton is excited.

They take up the usual spots in the car, Hermann driving and Newton in the passenger’s seat. After some back and forth, some rock is playing on the sound system. Newt is careful to make sure The Sex Pistols don’t show up on his playlist. They’ve dealt with plenty of feelings this weekend, and the ride home leaving this all behind is already enough to deal with. Other than that, it’s pleasantly quiet as they head out down the long, winding road lined with trees. 

Newt looks over at Hermann and he just looks too serious. “I’m going to miss Gertrude. You think she’ll miss me?”

“Gertrude?” Hermann’s face crumples in confusion for a moment, then he laughs and shakes his head. “Oh, the woman at the front desk? No, I’m sure she’s relieved you’re gone.”

“Rude.”

“Truthful.” Hermann reaches over and pats Newt’s leg.

Newt gives a hum and snags Hermann’s hand, slipping his hand beneath it and interlacing their fingers. His stomach flips when Hermann brings it up to his lips and kisses the back of Newt’s hand. “What’s your favorite fast food place?”

The wrinkled nose tells Newt that he doesn’t like  _ any _ fast food place. “McDonald’s I suppose.”

“Maccies?” Newt wags his eyebrows.

“I barely use American slang. Do you honestly think I’m going to use British slang?”

Newt shrugs. “Pretty sure you have. Something about ‘tosh’ I think.” He squeezes Hermann’s hand as it rests on Hermann’s lap now.

There’s a familiar sigh from Hermann, but when Newt looks over at him, he has a sort of smile on his face. He looks content. They drive through the backroads and into the slightly more active town that has been built up around the exit ramp. It’s mostly mostels, gas stations, and fast food joints, but it’s exactly what they’re looking for. Hermann goes through McDonald’s without even a grimace then they’re on the highway, munching on greasy food.

Newt’s had to relinquish Hermann’s hand, but the food almost makes up for it. “I’m going to need a couple serious workout sessions after this,” he says before stuffing a handful of french fries in his mouth. He’s actually been letting his workouts slide a lot these last few weeks, which speaks loudly to his anxious state.

“Mm you look fine, darling.”

“Oh do I?” Newt strikes a few poses, which Hermann only catches parts of since he’s focused on the road as night descends on their drive.

“Well, you did before you started that ridiculousness.” Hermann carefully dips one of his chicken nuggets.

Newton is seriously impressed at how careful and clean he can be eating while driving. If it was Newt, he’d have spilled everything already. “You’re pretty fit. What do you do to stay in shape?”

“Not much of anything lately. Naturally lean, I suppose. Definitely lost definition, though.” He shrugs but there’s something in the tone that doesn’t sound as nonchalant as the motion is trying to make the statement seem. “The swimming was a good idea.”

“Yeah I picture you like running or cycling. Definitely swimming.”

Hermann snorts. “Actually, I  _ hate _ running.”

“Oh good, me too. At least I know you’ll never ask me to go out running with you.” Newton flips through his playlist, trying to find something a little more upbeat. It’s getting later, and they’ve both been yawning quite a lot. “Hey, um, we’re still a couple hours away from your house, right?”

“Mhm, just under two hours yes. Why?”

“It’s um.” Newt’s throat feels a little tight as he thinks to ask. But that would be intrusive maybe, especially if Hermann has to work the next day. He’s just not ready for this to end, and doesn’t particularly want to drive home after this long trip. Even if he is just a neighborhood over. “I mean it’s getting late, so I was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind me crashing at yours? I’ll leave in the morning, and if you’re not cool with it, that’s fine. No big deal or anything, I was just thinking-”

“You can stay. Newt,” Hermann interrupts his rambling. “Newton, you can stay. That’s fine. I do have to work tomorrow so I’ll be up and out by nine, but you’re welcome to stay, help yourself to breakfast or whatever before you leave. I don’t mind.”

“Oh.” Newt squirms in his seat, sinking a little lower. “Cool.”

“Right. Cool.”

They both fall quiet to the sounds of some upbeat seventies music, and it’s a surprising amount of time before either of them speak up again. It’s Hermann breaking the silence again.

“Is there anything special I need to do with Shatter considering...well, everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re staying another night, and I know that now we’ve discussed dating, but you’re still sort of working until this is over, and if you, I don’t know, wanted to count tonight as working as well?”

“No! No, dude. We’re on our time now. This is not work if I stay tonight, okay?” Newt  _ needs _ this to not be work if he stays. He wants to start distancing those two parts of himself, to establish what he and Hermann are outside of Shatter’s influence. “I’m working on changing some of that professional mindset I tried to keep this weekend, and I don’t want anything else being work between us, okay?”

“Sure. I quite agree actually, but I wanted to make sure we were both set on the division when it came time.” Hermann reaches over again, his food finished, and takes Newt’s hand. “So, boyfriends now, then.”

“Yeah. Boyfriends. That sounds so weird. It’s such a kiddie term, like I feel like I’m back in high school or something.” Newt rubs his thumb over Hermann’s hand.

Hermann hums thoughtfully. “Is there something else you want to call it?”

“I don’t know. The term fits, just feels odd. I’ll get used to it.”

With a soft laugh, “It’s something I’ll have to get used to as well. I haven’t really  _ dated _ in a long time.”

“No? How many people did you date before Vanessa?”

“Three.”

Newt’s eyes go a bit wide. “You pulled that number pretty quickly.”

Light from the overhead poles shine in through the car. They’re passing by a more populated area now, and the lamps cast an odd orange glow across Hermann’s face each time they pass beneath one. He sees him shrug.

“I had two girlfriends and one other boyfriend. At least, those are who I’ve dated.” 

Even in the odd orange of the street lamps, Newt can see a red glow tinge his cheeks. He’s embarrassed about something, and Newton’s not sure exactly what. He’s quiet as he tries to come up with what could be wrong, but that silence triggers something in Hermann. Perhaps just a need to fill silence with explanation. Newt has that impulse himself.

“I’ve slept with a few others, of course. I mean, not that it’s an of course statement, but just…” He flushes deeper, and Newt chuckles.

Yanking on the seatbelt a bit, Newt angles himself on the seat so that he can plant a kiss on Hermann’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ve had non-dating sex partners, too.” He kisses him again and retakes his seat when Hermann starts swatting at him.

“Sit down and behave yourself, Newton Geiszler! I’m trying to drive.”

The frown is just too much, and Newt laughs at the man. “I’m behaving, I’m behaving,” he insists.

“And what about you? How many people have you dated?”

Newt sucks at his bottom lip. “Er, six people. Guys--men.”

Hermann chortles. “Oh?”

Clearing his throat, Newt nods and tries again. “Yeah, I’ve only dated men. I’m pretty gay, I guess. Although I do escort for women. That ended in sex twice ‘cuz I thought like, why not give it a shot, right? And it was  _ so _ not my thing. Disasters, both times.” 

“That’s fine. I  _ am _ a dude, as you say, so I’m sure we’ll work out for a little while at least.” Even though his tone was extremely flat, Newt could just feel the teasing there. 

“Yeaaaah, I suppose you’re right.” He shifts in his seat, ready to be out of the car. “I’ve had a bunch of sexual partners, too, but always safe. Like I mentioned before, condoms and regular testing.”

“I trust you, darling.”

The conversation sort of dwindles, and the music takes over the space. Between the streaks passing lights, the soft music, and Hermann reaching back over to hold Newton’s hand, the time passes in a pleasant blur. Newt may have dozed though he’d wanted to stay awake with Hermann the whole time, and then they’re parked.

Hermann turns the car off and sits back, closing his eyes for a moment. Newt just watches with a smile in the corner of his lips. “You good, Herms?”

“Yeah,” he says before yawning. “Just tired. You staying over is definitely a good idea. I wouldn’t want you driving now that it’s late.”

“And we still need to unpack.” Newt picks up the yawn, and they climb out of the car slowly. “I’ll just toss my stuff in my car now if that’s okay.”

“Mm that’s fine.” Hermann clicks the remote on his key chain and the garage opens up, revealing Newt’s awaiting car. 

Together, they move Newt’s things over, and he pulls out the few things he’ll need for the night. Then Hermann opens up the house and drags his things. Newt follows behind; it takes just a few minutes and they have the lights on in the bedroom, Hermann’s stuff neatly against a wall, and they’re changing into more comfortable clothes for the night.

They both stand in the middle of the room and look at each other.

“As much as I would love to stay up all night with you, darling, I do need to get some sleep before work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. Let’s curl up in bed then.” Newt frowns, pushes his glasses up his nose, and adds, “Unless you wanted me on the couch.”

“Do shut up, Newt. Come to bed,” Hermann says rolling his eyes at him and getting into bed himself. He yanks down the covers next to him, patting the bed for Newt to join him.

“Hey, just checking.” Newt climbs up, tucking himself closely against Hermann’s side and wrapping an arm over his waist.

“Look, now that I’m dating you, there’s no way I am letting you sleep in the living room.” Hermann in turn wraps an arm around Newton’s shoulders, bringing his hand up to thread through his hair. “I like waking up to you and your warmth too much.”

Planting a kiss in the middle of Hermann’s chest, Newt gently slips a leg between his so they’re now flush and he’s able to better share his body heat. “I knew it was something like that.”

“Like what?”

“You just want me for my body heat.”

Hermann snorts. “It’s certainly not for your snark.”

“Lies.”

“Mm, you’ll never know.” 

Hermann kisses the top of his head, and their conversation quickly falls to unintelligible murmurs. Soon after that, they’re both asleep. 

Newton wakes the next morning to an alarm blaring through the room. His eyes snap open and the blurry outlines of an unfamiliar place fill his vision. He blinks heavily a few times, hears the soft groans of someone else, and remembers he isn’t at his house. He is with Hermann in  _ his _ house. In his bed. Newt squirms over and drapes an arm over Hermann’s middle, burying his nose into the man’s neck and inhaling. It’s such a ground feeling to wake up with someone and not alone.

“Morning,” he hears Hermann mutter and feels him flailing to reach the alarm clock next to the bed.

Newt manages a groan that  _ almost  _ sounds like good morning. “Time’s it?”

“Seven. You can stay in bed if you want. You don’t have to get up just because I do.” Hermann rubs his shoulder and plants a kiss on the top of his head. Then he gives him a pat. “I have to get up though. Sorry darling.”

“Mmkay.” Newt lifts his arm so Hermann can get out of bed and ready himself for work. There’s some worry trying to work its way into Newt’s thoughts, but it’s too early to form complicated thoughts. He hasn’t even had any coffee. Rolling in the bed, Newt tucks him deeper in the blankets and dozes, listening to the morning sounds of Herman’s routine. 

This is different from the lazy way they got ready during the weekend. There feels to be purpose in these movements, a quickness that was missing before. Dresser and closet opening up, closing shortly afterwards. An outfit set onto the back of the room chair. The shower on, brief pause just long enough for the water to warm a little, and then the shower curtain sliding into place with Hermann inside. Perfunctory, Newton’s brain supplies in the daze of still-clinging dream-haze. 

Perfunctory because he’s going to work. Because they’re at his house on a weekday, and Newt is intruding on regular life. He’s staying in bed while Hermann gets ready to leave. Leave this house that Newt is still in. But he’s allowed to be here now; this isn’t work, this is the start of a relationship.

Newt jolts up in bed, too awake now. Hermann is off in the kitchen now, he thinks. He should get dressed himself and get out of the house when Hermann leaves. He can’t intrude here while Hermann is away. They’re just starting out and that would be odd. That would be too much for both of them, he’s sure. Hermann’s been really polite about things, letting Newt stay the night, stay in bed. Surely he doesn’t want him hanging out here while he’s at work though. Newt saw how careful he was about getting his house in order to leave for a weekend. He could not be comfortable with someone staying here while he’s out, trust someone else to lock his doors and make sure things are in order before leaving. 

Jamming his legs into his jeans from yesterday and snagging a clean shirt he’d brought inside, Newt picks up his things and heads out of the bedroom. He finds Hermann eating a piece of toast and jam, putting tea in a travel mug.

“Hey, I’ll head out when you do so we don’t have to shuffle cars,” he says, parking himself next to Hermann at the counter and offering a smile.

Hermann chews quicker, swallows so he’s not talking with his mouth full, and his hand even scrambles at his mouth to wipe away anything that might be there. It’s adorable. “Oh? I hope I wasn’t too loud getting ready. I’d wanted you to be able to sleep in if you wanted to.”

Newt shrugs. “You weren’t, but my mind is running this morning, so I’m up. Figure it’s better if I head out at the same time anyway so you can lock up properly.”

There’s a pause before Hermann smiles and leans across the space between them to place a kiss on Newt’s cheek. “That’s very considerate of you, but I um.” He clears his throat. “I would trust you to lock up.”

He would? He does? Newt looks at him a moment before a smile cracks across his face. “Then next time I  _ will  _ sleep in,” he chuckles and pulls Hermann to him, nearly knocking the toast from his hand. Amid protests, Newt buries his nose in Hermann’s neck and kisses him. “I just need…” But how does he say what he needs when he’s not even sure himself?

Hermann must need something similar though, because he just wraps an arm around Newton’s waist and holds on to him as well. “I understand, darling. Would it help if we set up a time to meet again? Perhaps on a date or at one of our places?”

That is it, the burbling feeling in bed he couldn’t quite understand. While they’ve both decided to start dating, there is an air of unknown around parting today. They’d started their weekend with such vastly different ideas of how things would go, and now that it is settled somewhere they likely  _ both  _ hadn’t expected, there’s a hesitance.

“Yes,” he breathes out in relief. “Yeah, that would be great.”

Hermann’s posture relaxes as well, and Newt realizes he must have been just as worried. “Great. Um, so...date or house?”

“Date.” Newt thinks it will be a good idea to have some time outside of Shatter to date like normal. He’s curious how different it will be. “I know Sacha and Aleksis will want to meet you soon, but I’m not  _ quite _ ready for that yet.”

“Mm, I feel the same about Mako.” He pours his tea into the travel mug and turns back around. “Date, then. Tomorrow night, dinner? I can pick you up after work.”

“Sounds good,” Newt grins, gripping the counter as he leans back on it, feeling fidgety and nervous now. 

“Great. I’m going to grab my things, then I’m heading out.”

“Gotcha, I’m ready when you are.” 

Hermann goes to the living room and packs up some books, the papers he’d looked at over the weekend, and a laptop. They put their shoes on together and go out to the cars. They’ve packed their things away and now they’re standing in the driveway between the cars, hesitating to leave. There’s a similar, shy smile on both of their faces as they oscillate in their feelings and the need to leave. Newt breaks the tension, not wanting Hermann to be late for work.

He leans forward, and wraps a hand behind Hermann’s neck, kissing him on the lips in a long, nearing make-out level kiss. Hermann laughs into the kiss when it goes on for too long and pulls back, rubbing Newt’s cheek. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.”

Newt grins. “Later, babe. Oh,” he says walking backwards toward his car. “I’m going to text you. I don’t know if you actually hate texting like I said at that meeting thing, but I’m going to text a bunch, so don’t be surprised.”

Hermann rolls his eyes as he opens his car door. “I don’t hate it, actually, but I will correct your grammar and punctuation if you make mistakes.”

“Ooh, I look forward to being scolded by teacher,” Newt says with a wink. He feels lighter now, content in their plans and their goodbye.

With a shake of his head, Hermann gets into his car and finally heads off to work. Newt is right behind him. Well, that had all been rather successful, hadn’t it? Now he needs to go see Sacha and Aleksis.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations with friends, a date, and a failed bit of sex...where does that leave our beautiful couple now?

Hermann pulls into the parking lot of the university and just sits gripping the steering wheel while he tries to gather himself for the day. His mind is still stuck on the fact that he’d woken up this morning with Newton in his bed, had left his house at the same time Newt was leaving, and they were  _ dating _ . Whatever he and Dr. Hanson had thought for Hermann to get out of this weekend, he’s sure that dating the escort was  _ not _ it. And Hermann is ecstatic about this.

Gathering his things, Hermann walks in humming the music he and Newt had danced to in the field. He hasn’t felt this good about the direction of his life in a long time. The classroom is locked and students are milling about near the door. They part quickly for Hermann as he approaches with the key, used to his more gruff attitudes.

“Morning,” he says cheerfully, juggling his bag, books, tea, and keys. 

A soft whisper goes up among those gathered. Hermann suspects they’re whispering about his demeanor. He’s often quite dour, and that’s probably something they'll be happy to see dissipate. In all honesty, Hermann would be happy to get rid of that feeling himself. He’s spent too long in a poor mood, and it’s time for a change. He opens the classroom and the students pile in after him, taking their usual seats. 

Hermann goes behind the desk and podium to get his things set up. He wants to run something fun for today, something he hasn’t done since Vanessa’s passing. Perhaps Newton had a good point this weekend; there very well could be a Newton, Hermann, or even a Vanessa sitting in this room, and he could be missing them. Hell, there are thirty brand new faces of people full of potential and he  _ is _ missing them.

“We’re going to run an experiment,” he says, pulling out the laptop to hook up to the wifi to cast. “I’ll need you in teams of three for this, and yes I know, group work is the most horrid part of education yet necessary all the same.”

There are a few mild protests, but the interested comments end up louder. They begin the shuffle to find the partners they want, and Hermann sets his things up, going to old saved files for the project he wants. He’s glad he’s saved it these last few years and also reminds himself that he needs to clean up his laptop files.

It goes surprisingly well, and when class is over, the energy of the room is excited. It pours out into the halls as they all leave. Hermann is feeling much of that excitement still as he heads to his office. He has a few hours before his next class, and he would like to get his and Newton’s date set for tomorrow night. The high he’s riding on feels like it could last days.

The office is a little stuffy having been shut up all weekend, so Hermann pops open the little window behind him and sits down. The leather of the chair squeaks then settles and a ray of sun through the now open window is warming the room pleasantly. He’s glad that the weather and the world seem to be following his good mood.

But what should he plan with Newton? The man has an odd mix of refined and down right horrid tastes. He swings from eating steak and sipping wine to slurping down blue slush like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And Hermann wants to make sure that he enjoys their date. He wonders if Newton likes Japanese food so grabs his phone and finds himself a string of texts.

Texts. Lots of them. Aw, the early stages of love, Hermann thinks right before he chokes on the thought. It’s far too early to say anything about love.

_ Hey babe, I might be starting this texting thing a little early, but I had to fulfill my promise. _

_ I’m sure you think of it as a threat not a promise. _

_ But it’s just because I like you. ;) _

There’s a slight time lapse between that and the next message.

_ Hopefully I don’t annoy you into changing your mind about me. _

_ I’ve heard I can be annoying. _

Another break, about thirty minutes.

_ Hope you’re having a good day. Don’t beat up on your students too much! _

_ Oh, I saw a cat outside earlier and it let me pet it! I think it has a home because it’s well fed and has a healthy coat, so I shouldn’t bring it inside, right? _

A few minutes later.

_ I went back out to bring it inside, but it was gone. _

_ I’m a little sad.  _

_ Should I get a cat? _

Laughing and shaking his head, Hermann texts in one solid block instead of the broken up stream that Newt texts in. 

_ Hello darling. No, it isn’t too early for texting; I don’t think you can annoy me out of anything I put my mind to. Please don’t bring a stray cat inside. Bravo on your grammar and punctuation. I didn’t have to correct anything. _

Then, separately,  _ I was wondering, do you enjoy Japanese food? _

Hermann sets the phone done and before his fingers leave the back of it, he feels the thing vibrate with a response. Flipping it over, he swipes and reads,  _ Um YES!  _

He watches the bubbles pop up as Newton sends the messages through one after the other.

_ Are we going for Japanese tomorrow?  _

_ I know a place.  _

_ Like the one good one. _

Hermann gives it a moment, waiting until he doesn’t see the thought-typing bubbles before responding.  _ Yes. Which place?  _ Hermann has some very particular opinions about places he’s willing to eat Japanese at, and he really hopes Newt names one of the two he knows.

_ Tanaka’s on Eighth and Morsten. _

Perfect. Tanaka’s is Hermann’s favorite and the first place Mako showed him. They’d later discovered a little hole in the wall ramen place, but Tanaka’s had a fuller menu and was run by a Japanese couple.  _ That’s the one I prefer. Alright, I’ll get us a reservation.  _

_ Sweet, can’t wait! _

Hermann calls the restaurant and gets a table set for them, then he puts his phone away from him so that he can check his emails and prepare for his next class. He’s itching for the time he gets to spend on his research after lunch. He’d made a lot of progress thanks to Newton’s feedback the other afternoon. He’s really happy that they did end up sitting down doing that for a while. Hermann thinks he could spend an entire weekend with Newton just working on their projects and research. Maybe they’ll get the opportunity soon.

The rest of the morning goes smoothly, and he gets both classes set with experiments and excited for their next class. Before lunch, Mako messages saying she wants to meet up. 

They go to a small cafe near the school, and Hermann feels a bit nervous sitting down with her. He hasn’t spoken to her since the phone call a couple days ago, and he’s sure she’s just bursting to know what came of the weekend. He seems to recall he sounded a bit panicked on that call.

“You look good.” Mako looks him up and done, a hesitation in her words. “You are good, yes?” Of course she worries. She always worries, but it’s appreciated.

Hermann nods. “Very good in fact.” He pulls out a chair and ushers her into it. “Your advice helped, and I have a date with him tonight.”

“Oh?” Mako takes the seat and beams with interest now, eyes wide. “Through shatter or?”

“No, we’re...dating. Boyfriends, I suppose.” He pushes the seat in and then takes his own spot across from her, unfolding a napkin across his lap. He uses the motion of smoothing it out to look down from her assessing gaze.

The grin she wears would annoy Hermann on any other day, but right now it means that he’s done this whole thing correctly and she’s happy for him. “Boyfriends. That is good, Hermann. I knew this weekend was going to work out for you. I had a feeling.”

“Did you then?”

She nods emphatically and before they can say more, the waiter arrives. They put in their orders then lean forward with their delight.

“You had a feeling about the dates you sent me on, too.”

Mako sighs and looks contrite with a bowed head and a small frown. “I had hope, not a good feeling.” Then she flutters her hand and perks back up again. “Tell me everything. How did the conversation go? Who suggested dating?”

Hermann chuckles at her enthusiasm. “Well…”

He recounts much of the weekend, passing over in the barest of details the sex they had together. She hangs on every word and stops to examine different parts of what they did or said. Hermann finds himself going back to certain moments when he wants to emphasize something one of them said, then asks for her opinion on what it could mean. 

It turns out, Hermann is an idiot for questioning that Newton likes him.

“And he stayed over last night?” Mako leans forward on the table, eyes wide and anticipatory.

“Yes. It was late and I didn’t want him to drive home alone.” 

He also wasn’t ready to part ways with the man. It was nice having someone around again, to have someone in his bed. Hermann hasn’t realized until now how much he missed that feeling of someone just  _ there _ all the time. While Mako wants space, Hermann wants presence. They’ve talked about it before, when Vanessa was around. His wife had often wanted to find someone for Mako to date, but they came to the realization that it just isn’t for her; friendship is enough and she has a very fulfilling friendship with the Gottliebs, among a few others.

Mako smiles and reaches a hand across the table to take Hermann’s. “What was that about his bad job, though? Are you going to talk to him about that?”

Shaking his head, Hermann says, “Not directly. I want to give him time. We’ve just started this whole...thing, and he said he’d come to me when he was ready to talk about it. If it becomes a problem, I’ll address it, but I want him to feel comfortable talking to me about it.”

“That makes sense. Just make sure it doesn’t become a problem.”

At that, Hermann frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Communicate. In the last few years, you’ve really retreated into yourself, Hermann. I know you don’t really talk to anyone outside of me, and you don’t want that habit to spill over into your relationship with him. The both of you need to open about your challenges.”

Hermann pats her hand reassuringly. “Of course. I think we’re doing a fine job so far.”

She laughs. “With some prompting.”

“Perhaps, but we got there didn’t we?”

“You certainly did.”

“Thank you for that, by the way. For helping me when I called. I don’t know that the weekend would have ended so nicely if you hadn’t talked to me.”

“Of course, Hermann. I’ll always be there for you.”

“And I you.”

They finish their drinks, and then Hermann has to leave. He needs to do some updates on his research and get in contact with some fellow researchers before he leaves for the afternoon. Mako hugs Hermann goodbye and makes him promise to introduce her to Newton as soon as possible. He stumbles through the promise because he’s not sure when they’ll both be ready for that, but a quick, half-promise is good enough for Mako.

Back in the office, Hermann finds he can’t concentrate. He keeps glancing at his phone, knowing there are messages there from Newt, just waiting for him. He’s felt the phone buzz a few times now. Still, he’s determined to get  _ something _ done, so he turns on the laptop and opens up the file he had Newt read. The man was correct in his suggestions, so Hermann sets to work at making some corrections, and he finds that he’ll need to test a few things before he can come to an exact conclusion about it all.

He makes it about forty minutes before he caves and picks up the cell phone to check his text messages. Maybe if he just answers a couple, he’ll feel better and be able to concentrate more.

_ I just made the best batch of brownies ever, dude. Seriously, you gotta try these things. _

_ Oh! _

_ Aleksis and Sacha say hi and that you better be nice to me. _

_ Don’t worry, I told them you’re great. They believe me. _

_ What are you doing tonight? I’m having pizza with the Kaidonovskys. I think they want to pester me more about the weekend. _

With a content smile, Hermann texts back,  _ I’ll be at the school for a while but at home I still have to unpack my things. _

A few minutes later, of which Hermann spent staring at the blank screen waiting for an alert, Newt texts back:  _ Yeah, we kind of just dropped everything huh? _

He wants to text back, to say something to Newton but he’s not sure what to say. There’s not much going on with work or research that he hasn’t already shared with him. He hasn’t seen a cat or baked anything. Is Hermann going to be the boring one in their relationship? He shakes his head and makes a few more corrections to the work, trying not to worry about responding right away. A text is there to wait for when the other person is ready, right?

But he can’t get it out of his head. HE also can’t help but fidget as he thinks about going home. And something about the low power warning flashing on his laptop makes him realize why. When he goes home, he’ll be alone for the first time after that long weekend. It’s only one night and he’ll see Newt again tomorrow, but there’s an empty feeling when he thinks about going to the house tonight.

He texts back finally,  _ Yes. I was quite tired yesterday. Thank you for staying over. _

Hermann can only put off going home for so long. He packs his things and checks his phone as he walks out to the parking lot.

_ Of course! Thanks for letting me stay. _

_ Are you free from work yet? _

_ Oh, did you make any changes to your work? I did a little on mine. _

Hermann quickly texts back,  _ Headed home now. And yes, I did a little as well. _

On the drive home, Hermann thinks about the things he’s dropped in his room and how he needs to get the house back in order. The empty house. He cringes at the thought and makes himself think about last night instead. The warmth of Newton sleeping next to him. Sure, it won’t be every night, but neither will he be alone every night. He has someone again, and they’ll have nights together.

Parking in the driveway, Hermann realizes it has been a while since he’s left the house for an extended amount of time, and as he walks back inside, he notices. The little traces of neglect. Newton had hinted at this, and now that Hermann is taking a step out of his own mind, he sees it.

Changing into a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt, Hermann sets about scrubbing his house. He wipes down the baseboards. He sweeps, mops, and polishes the wooden floorboards. Hermann makes the mistake of glancing through his kitchen cupboards and the next thing he knows, he’s pulling everything out and reorganizing. He even finds things to get rid of, asking Mako first if there’s anything she was interested in. Like a smoothie blender he’s never used; it had been Vanessa’s, but he feels comfortable letting go of it now.

Once that is done and Mako makes claim to the blender and an old Japanese tea set, Hermann pauses. He still needs to unpack from his weekend with Newton. Clothes need washing. So he pulls out the clothes from the bag, puts things in the wash, and goes through the rest of the stuff.

The drawing. He unfurls the long canvas paper that he’d rolled up for travel and sees an image of Newton staring back at him. While it was just black and white pencil, it’s still good work. Hermann frowns at it though, in it’s unfinished state. Now that they’re dating, he wonders if he can get Newton to sit for him one more time so he could finish it up. He’d really like to.

Until then, Hermann finds stretchers in the back of a closet in the guest room where he keeps all of his art things. He hasn’t been in there to use any art supplies in months. Years, in fact. But they’re still there for him and they’re something he does not want to give away. Since drawing Newton, Hermann’s got the itch to actually create artwork again.

Getting the canvas set up, he mounts the drawing in his bedroom on the wall. He steps back and looks it over; it fits here, he thinks. And he wonders how much he’s willing to change in the house now. It’s cleaner, and that’s a start, but he just might be able to actually go through things properly. It has been a step in the grieving process he’s put off the longest. Dr. Hanson hasn’t pushed him on it, either, which has been nice but perhaps it’s time now.

~*~*~*~

Newton drives home and collapses on his couch. He should have brought his things up with him, but that was too much work right now. He just wants to lounge and think about things. There’s a lot to think about. He’s dating Hermann Gottlieb, and that is fantastic. Newton hasn’t seriously dated anyone in a long time, but he’s had plenty of practice with his job. It has to be pretty similar. Except that he doesn’t know what to do with the long term effects. Even his regular customers don’t last consistently or long enough to deal with those sorts of things. And he’d always been dealing with his own falsified emotions. It’s easy to pretend to be happy and perfectly content when it’s for a limited time.

With Hermann, he knows that he’ll have to deal with real emotions. He’ll have to be happy but also sad, angry, annoyed, excited, or even scared around the man. That idea is a little terrifying. He’s only been that sort of vulnerable with the Kaidonovskys as of late. To let someone else in, that’s...a lot.

Closing his eyes, Newt inhales deeply. The apartment smells familiar. Comfortable. He can smell the slight scent of lemon cleaner that he uses on his counters and floors. Turning his head into the back of the couch, it’s warm and molded to his favorite position. He reaches up, eyes still closed, and grabs the Mothra throw blanket he knows is there, pulling it down over himself. Just a few minutes to center himself.

He dozes there for maybe an hour before feeling like doing anything. Getting up, he goes back down to get his things from the car. He tosses that all on the bed next to his phone. Newt eyes it, thinking about how he’d said he would text. Is it too soon though? With a shrug, he grabs the phone and types in Hermann’s number.

_ Hey babe, I might be starting this texting thing a little early, but I had to fulfill my promise. _

_ I’m sure you think of it as a threat not a promise. _

_ But it’s just because I like you. ;) _

The smiley face may have been too much. Right? At least he’s used full sentences and proper grammar for the rest of the text. He has a feeling Hermann is one of those who will write in perfect English grammar for a text, even in an emergency. So, he’s going to slowly get the man used to Newt’s typical horribly messaging habits.

He sends a string of texts to Sacha next.

_ WYD _

_ Pizza 7????? _

_ i got godzilla _

If he stays inside much longer, he feels like he’ll burst with too much energy. Newt stuffs his feet into some shoes and heads outside. It’s nice outside, a slight breeze keeping it cool while the sun shines from a clear sky. Newt doesn’t have a destination in mind, just needs to burn off some energy, so he picks a sidewalk and heads down it. He’s walking away from Hermann’s neighborhood, he thinks somewhere on the edges of his mind.

He has started texting too early, hasn’t he? Fishing his phone from his pocket, he adds:

_ Hopefully I don’t annoy you into changing your mind about me. _

_ I’ve heard I can be annoying. _

Newt can’t help but notice his first text hasn’t been answered yet. Of course, he doesn’t have an answer from Sacha either. It’s nothing to worry about. Hermann is teaching, after all.

The neighborhood here is rather large. It is set up in a rather spiraling set of streets that loop around to a park in the center of everything. Newt finds himself strolling through the park eventually, thoughts winding with his steps. This whole dating thing is good. It’s something he’s wanted though only recently allowed himself to think about wanting. He is used to making excuses about why a relationship wouldn't’ work or why he didn't’ actually want one, but being able to say that he’s got a boyfriend now feels right.

What’s really digging at his mind is the idea of continuing his job. It feels emotionally like beating a dead horse every time he reminds himself that he  _ likes _ his job, and now it’s starting to feel fake. Not necessarily a lie, but something he tells himself because it’s something he’s supposed to still feel. He hasn’t focused on what-ifs because he’s been content working and studying. He hasn’t felt the need to do anything more with his school work besides go to school and gather degrees, but what if that is changing? And if it is, it’s because of his time and conversations with Hermann.

And that’s not a bad thing. At least, he has to convince himself that’s not a bad thing. Or maybe he needs someone else to tell him it’s not a bad thing. So, he’ll toss that burden on Aleksis and Sacha when they come over. If they come over.

Sitting on a bench, Newt pulls out his phone to check his messages. He has one from Sacha.

_ Will b there. Will bring pizza, don’t order. _

He responds,  _ kk _

He doesn’t have a message from Hermann yet and he can’t help but send something else.

_ Hope you’re having a good day. Don’t beat up on your students too much! _

Newton is positive that Hermann likes him. Newton’s just not sure he’ll continue to like Newt as he gets to know him better. There’s been a certain falsehood about their relationship during the time on the clock as a Shatter employee, and while Newt does put himself into his interactions, he doesn’t show everything. And he’s not had to deal with something like Mr. Antoni entering his psyche before. In fact, he still  _ hasn’t _ dealt with it at all. He wonders briefly if he shouldn’t try out a therapist but lets the thought go just as quickly.

Eventually, he decides to make his way back home. He’s slow about it, having hours before Aleksis and Sacha will come over. Partway home Newt hears a mewling. It’s soft and he has to stop to see if he actually heard anything. He hears it again and follows the noise. In the front yard of someone’s house is a little rose garden and beneath the bushes he sees an orange tabby cat.

Newt crouches down, holds out his fingers towards it, and clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Here kitty kitty. Come on out. I won’t hurtcha.”

The cat mewls at him again and stretches it neck out, trying to sniff at him without really getting closer. He wishes he had some sort of food on him to offer the thing. He stays still, letting the cat see he won’t hurt it. The cat stretches again, edging one front paw forward. Newt holds still the entire time it belly crawls toward him and when it finally puts its wet nose to his finger tips, Newt grins.

“That’s it,” he whispers and slowly turns his hand over. The cat hunches in on itself and he stops moving again. It slinks forward a bit more, he holds his breath, and then it rubs along his hand. “Good kitty.”

Newt strokes it, scritches behind its ears, and the cat gives in fully. He ends up on the ground for nearly half an hour with the cat. Down the street a car alarm goes off and the spooks, disappearing into the roses and possibly beneath the house. No amount of  _ psspssing  _ draws it back out, so Newt heads home.

He putters around the apartment a bit, freshening up the bathroom and his living room before his friends come over. Newt can’t get the cat out of his head though. He even messages Hermann about it. The tabby was really skinny and probably hungry. He could probably feed it some hotdog since he doesn’t have cat food. Grabbing one and heating it up in the microwave, Newt heads back out again. 

He spends another half hour trying to find the cat, but to no avail. He tosses pieces of hot dog under the rose bushes, hoping the cat will find it and being slightly paranoid that the owners of the house will catch him doing this. He’s not caught and he hurries back home.

There, he flops on the couch and pulls out his phone again. The house feels empty. Yes, he’s dating Hermann which means he won’t spend as many nights alone anymore. Yes, he has friends who come over pretty frequently. But Newt has always lived alone. He’s always just been...alone. There’s something about that that’s making him sad lately. He should have brought the cat home with him the first time.

_ I went back out to bring it inside, but it was gone. _

_ I’m a little sad.  _

_ Should I get a cat? _

He really hopes Hermann sees his messages and answers soon. He could do with hearing from the man right now. Newt lets his head fall back on the couch and slips into a light sleep, images of a tabby running away from him filling his mind.

Newt wakes to messages on his phone. Sacha and Aleksis will be late and Hermann doesn’t think he should bring in a stray cat. Newt would like to disagree, but he’s too caught up on the Japanese thing. He would love to have dinner at Tanaka’s with the man. While a love for Japanese food isn’t essential in a relationship with Newton, it is appreciated. There are a few things Newt loves with some passion, Japanese food and comics are two of those things. He’s quite sure Hermann will  _ not  _ be into the comics, but he likes the food, so that’s a win.

Since he has time to kill, Newt decides the Kaidonovskys need dessert tonight. Brownies, in fact. Throwing on some music, eighties rock of course, Newt putters around the kitchen and makes chocolate walnut brownies from scratch. He should have made something like this for Hermann when they camped. The pancakes had been good, but he hadn’t been able to really show off his baking skills. Perhaps this coming weekend he could make something for him. In the meantime, he texts Hermann about the brownies. 

The cat, though. “Do you really want a cat, Newt?” he asks aloud. They require litter boxes and food bowls and toys. Lots of toys or they’ll ruin furniture. Hell, they might ruin it anyway because they have to take care of their claws. Instincts are hard to train out. Still, the couch can get a little beaten up, that’s not a big deal. He’d have some company when others aren’t around.

It could be nice.

Newt sits at his counter now, scrolling through social media as he thinks about getting a cat. Hermann had said don’t get one. He wonders if the man doesn’t like cats, or maybe just pets in general. He seems very particular. Is that going to be a problem for them? If Newt wants a cat, he should be able to get one.

“Stop making problems that don’t exist,” he tells himself and tosses the phone down. 

He really needs to get out of his own head for a while. Just in time to keep him from really going crazy, there’s a knock on the door. He jumps up and races over, opening it up to find Sacha and Aleksis.

“Guys!” He tosses himself forward and wraps his arms around Sacha first. 

He hears her chuckle as she hugs him back. “Newt.” She pulls back and is handed pizzas before being replaced by Aleksis who sweeps Newton off his feet in his hug. 

“Come on,” Sacha says and pats her husband’s back, pushing them inside the apartment. Aleksis doesn’t put Newt down until they’re properly inside and Sacha is shutting the door behind them.

“How are you?” Aleksis asks. “It was a good weekend?”

Newt nods. “Yeah, thanks to that phone call I made to you guys. Thanks for that.” 

The three of them go for the living room, to the couches. The pizza is put on the coffee table, and Aleksis is digging out cards from his pocket. That means a talking night. They will play cards and chat, likely about Newton’s new relationship. Well, Aleksis will grunt his agreement or disagreement, and that’s enough. They settle in and eat first, enjoying the food and company for its simplicity.

There’s not a lot to worry about with the Kaidonovskys. It’s a friendship Newt is very thankful to have because of this. He doesn’t have to overthink or question what they mean when they speak. It is especially helpful when looking for advice or some insight into yourself.

“Hermann is taking me out tomorrow night.” He tosses it out casually just to see a quick, reactionary response.

“Where?” Aleksis asks.

At the same time, Sacha asks, “Is this a good thing?”

“Tanaka’s, and yes, I think so. It’ll be our first date outside of Shatter. The last day at the cabin aside.” Newt sets his plate down and leans back on the couch. “I’m looking forward to it, but I’m having some worries.”

“Like?” Sacha sets her plate aside next and shifts on the couch so that one of her legs is underneath her and she’s able to look at him directly.

“Work, mostly.”

“Does Hermann not want you to continue even after he said it was fine?” Sacha’s face tightened.

Newt shakes his head, waves a hand dismissing this thought. “No, no, nothing like that. He’s ready to support whatever decision i make about it.” He puckers his lips in thought a second. “I think. But no, it’s about  _ me _ not sure I want to continue or not.”

“What do you want instead?” Aleksis grabs another slice. The man can eat a whole large pizza on his own, Newt thinks.

Newt takes in a deep breath and lets it out with his words. “I don’t know. Something with my degrees, I think. Maybe in a lab or out in the field if that’s possible.”

Sacha has half a smile tucked in the corner of her mouth. “Or teaching and researching for a college, perhaps?”

Ah, because that’s what Hermann does. Although maybe Newt  _ could _ end up working in the same school. But would that be too much right away? They don’t know how long this will last. Hopefully for a long time, but with a move like that they could end up with a lot of tension put on their brand new relationship unnecessarily. And then the timing of this would really be called into question.

“Wow, I was just kidding!” Sacha puts a hand on his shoulder, drawing him back to this room and out of his mind. “It was joke. Take a breath, yeah?”

Newt takes in a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “Right, sorry.” He shakes his head. “See? I’ve been so caught up in too much stress that it’s making me freak out more often. I haven’t had this much anxiety and panic attacks in a long time. Like, since first year of college?” 

“Alright. Something is root of this problem, so let’s talk.” Sacha gets up from the couch. “First, drinks. This is going to be a long night, I think.”

“Not just drinks. I made brownies, too!” Newt suddenly feels like he will need some of those. Beer and chocolate to smooth over the high emotions that will run through this conversation.

“Perfect,” he hears Aleksis say from the couch.

Newt goes into the kitchen and heats up three generously sized brownies and places them on plates. He stares down at the things knowing that he is just using the moment to put off going back and talking. Even though he’s invited them over specifically because he wants to talk to someone about all of this. Adding ice cream to the plates forces Newt to go back out to the couches; he doesn’t want it all to melt on them. Handing out the plates, Newt takes his seat back and shoves a bite in his mouth.

“Hermann thinks I could do a lot with my degrees. I helped him with his work, and I don’t know. I like the science. It’s why I keep getting degrees.”

“And you like the escort business.” Sacha doesn’t say it with any sort of pushing. It is more like she is just stating a fact. And she is.

“Sure. But was I really planning on staying on the job forever? I mean, eventually I would get too old for this sort of thing, right?” Newt shrugs. “Maybe it’s time to get out. I had a bad client finally, and now I’m dating one.”

Sacha nods. “Could be a sign, if you’re looking for one.”

“What do you mean?” Newt’s eyebrows scrunch together, putting his glasses somewhat askew.

“If you’re looking for a specific sign or answer,” Aleksis jumps in, “then you already know what you want.”

“Like flipping a coin. You’ll know what answer you wanted based on how you feel when you see the result.” Sacha digs into her pocket and pulls out a coin. “Here, heads you quit, tails you stay.”

Newt holds out the hand not holding his plate of brownie. He looks at the coin, twists it heads up then tails up and takes in a breath. “Okay.” He sets the plate down and takes the coin in hand properly. “Heads I quit, tails I stay.” He flips it up high in the air and as it spins, end over end, coming back down to land in the palm of his hand, Newt covers it so he can’t see. He knows what he hopes sits there and suddenly panic restricts his throat.

Sacha reaches out quickly, covering his hand and keeping him from looking yet. “What do you  _ want _ the coin to be?”

And without question, Newt knows. “Heads.”

Wrestling his hand open, Sacha snatches the coin away. “Then it’s heads.”

That doesn’t feel right. It sort of felt like cheating. “It’s that simple?”

Sacha nods. “That simple. You know what you want, Newton Geiszler.”

~*~*~*~

Today, work absolutely drags for Hermann. He’s fidgeting every few minutes and just staring at the clock and willing it to move faster. He makes it through his classes and finds himself in his office, staring at the blinking cursor.

Hermann packs up early today. He can’t sit still, can’t focus on his work, so he leaves. In the back of his mind, he thinks this might be problematic, but another part argues that it’s the early stages of a relationship, one he hasn’t had in some time, and it’s only fair that he allow himself to feel the excitement over it. The research part of his work can be done in hours he chooses, so he wasn’t actually leaving at a time he wasn’t supposed to.

Once home, he calms a bit more. Here it’s familiar and closer to heading out with Newton. Here he can find his center as he falls into a faintly familiar routine of cleaning up for a nice date. He showers slowly, enjoying the warm water and the soap that smells of lemon and  _ clean _ . Tonight, picking out the outfit is easy this time. His nice dress pants, a button-down, and his favorite vest-one that Vanessa got him for Chanukah one year. It was a lovely gray and blue one. 

All dressed and standing before the bathroom mirror, Hermann feels good about himself. He likes the way he looks and he is confident that Newton will like him just as he is, too. This feeling is leagues better than what he felt when going on the last two dates with people. Running his hands through his hair, he tried to get that in order next and smooths his hands down his chest.

“Vanessa, I can’t believe I’m going on a date with someone and I’m actually excited about it.” He sighs and turns away, going out of the bathroom to the front room. He still has an hour before he should leave, and he thinks a cup of tea will be good to settle nerves that were starting to set in. “I think you would like him, sweetheart. The two of you would get lost for hours in music and debating.” 

He puts together a cup of Earl Grey and sits on the couch. “You should see his tattoos. Can you believe I actually thought about getting one when he was talking about how he could picture something on my back.” Shaking his head, Hermann sips at his tea and lets his head fall back on the couch, closing his eyes. “I hope you’d like him, like that I’m with him now.”

Vanessa was the type of person who saw great things in everybody. She helped show Hermann the good parts of people constantly, and he’d had conversations with people he never would have alone. Newton was already a good person, so there wouldn’t be much to convince her of liking. Or perhaps Hermann had blinders on after being alone for so long. He doesn’t think so. Especially without Vanessa, Hermann doesn’t tolerate people very well. He knows it’s a fault of his, but he’s got other things to focus on right now.

His phone buzzes on the coffee table. Sitting up and taking another sip of tea, he picks up the phone and reads the message. It’s Newton, of course.

_ Hey, what color are you wearing? I wanna match. _

He writes back, ‘ _ wanna’? _

_ Yeah, I’m slowly going to break you into proper texting. So, color? _

_ Grey and blue. _

_ Send me a pic of you. Winky face. _

Hermann sighs audibly at that one. He stares at the message, at the written words ‘winky face’ and wonders at his decision here. Newton is a conundrum of everything Hermann really likes and can’t stand. No, it’s not that he can’t stand it, it’s that it is so different from who Hermann is. Again, that’s the draw, isn’t it?

_ Ask nicely.  _ He grins after sending it and the briefest, naughtiest thought pops in his head, but he quickly dismisses the idea of sending a dick pic, as the kids say.

_ Pretty please? I wanna make sure my outfit looks good with yours. _

Hermann sighs again, but the smile that follows shows how he really feels. He sets his tea aside and gets up, going to his room where he has a full length mirror. Well, Vanessa had had the full length mirror but Hermann had loved the thing. Before the accident. After she passed, he had hidden some things away. Hermann wasn’t sure why he picked the things he did and still left pictures of her all around his home.  _ Their _ home. He couldn't remove her from it, but he could put away things that were hers that he felt guilty about using for some reason.

It takes some effort, but Hermann pulls the big mirror out and puts it back in the corner of the room where it had been before. He lets out a breath, looking around his room and getting a feel for it coming to life again. Then he sets himself up and takes a picture of himself. Even with the cane, the slight lean he notices, he thinks he looks pretty good. He thinks Newton will think he looks good.

He takes a few pictures and sends the one he likes the best.  _ How’s that? _

_ Daaaaamn babe, you look good :D _

That apparently earns an emoji and not just a written description. Hermann glances at the picture of himself again and finds he rather likes it. He hasn’t felt this good about himself in some time. Satisfied, he puts his phone away and goes back to finish his tea. He still has about twenty minutes before he should leave. He hopes that’s enough time for Newton to get ready.

At fifteen minutes left, he shifts on the couch and decides to pick up the tea cup and clean it. At ten minutes left, he’s pacing to his room to look at his outfit again, scolds himself, and walks back out. He glances at his door, his watch, and has eight minutes left. With a grumble, he grabs his keys and heads out. He can kill a few minutes with Newton in the car if they’re too early at the restaurant.

Plugging in the address Newton gave him, Hermann drives over a neighborhood and finds a large apartment building. It’s a nice looking brick building with neat flower beds out front and along the sides. There’s a little courtyard in the front with a tree and some benches. Cute, he thinks.

He parks in a guest spot in the small lot next to the building and strolls through the little courtyard up to the front doors. He’s happy to see an elevator right in the lobby, and goes to it just as a young woman is stepping out. He shuffles to the side to let her go by, and nods to her. She takes a second glance at him and smiles.

“Evening,” she says as she walks away.

“Good evening,” Hermann returns just as the doors close. 

He pokes the button for the fourth floor and ponders that encounter. It had been brief, but that smile she’d given him. It seemed just the other side of friendly, and he has to wonder what about himself drew that sort of attention. While he certainly feels more attractive and happy about himself with Newton, he hasn’t honestly thought of himself outside of their relationship. He hasn’t thought about how other people are viewing him now. Something’s changed, he’s sure.

Newton pulls the door open with a wide smile that scrunches his eyes and pushes his glasses high up on his nose. “Herms!” he says too loudly and flings himself through the door to wrap his arms around Hermann. “You look good, babe. Wanna come in and see the place real quick? We have a minute right?”

His energy is spilling over Hermann like a tidal wave. It’s a lot to take in but he manages a nod. They move inside together, Newt shutting the door behind them both. The apartment is nice. For some reason, the spastic energy the man let off made Hermann think there would be some bit of clutter or disarray, but it’s very neat. It’s an open space with a lot of lighting, natural too from the windows. There’s a bookshelf with textbooks, comic books, and figurines of little monster things. A cartoon graphic blanket rests over the back of the couch, something Hermann isn’t familiar with. It’s very much Newton, though in a way he hadn’t expected.

“It’s uh,” Newt is chewing a nail. “It’s not much, but it’s good for me, you know?”

“No, it’s perfect. I quite like it actually.” Hermann smiles at him and walks in further, glancing about. He runs his fingers over the blanket on the couch; it’s very soft. “It feels like  _ you _ in here.” Hermann turns again and Newton is still there, standing and chewing on that nail like he’s so nervous about what Hermann thinks. 

That’s not a feeling he wants Newton to have at all. With how happy Hermann is about things, he needs Newt right there with him. Wanting that look soothed, Hermann walks across the room and puts a hand on Newt’s cheek. He draws his eyes up to him. 

Newt goes with the movements, lifting his face to look in Hermann’s eyes. “Herms?” he whispers, confusing tightening his eyebrows.

Hermann is aware of the intense look on his own face, the set way he puts his lips and slants his jaw as he looks at Newton and wills away the worry. “It’s perfect, darling.” 

He dips his head down to meet Newt’s lips and kisses him deeply. He feels Newt melt in his arm, pressing closer to his body but still managing to keep his weight off of Hermann and his bum leg. They stay in the embrace for some time. Hermann’s hand trails from Newton’s face over his shoulder and down his back to hold him in place against him. He’s just so warm and comforting.

Newton is the one to pull back first, and Hermann lets his arm fall back to his side. “We should probably head out so we’re on time,” Newt says.

Hermann nods and reaches up to brush along Newt’s cheek one more time with his fingers. “Yes, we should. You’re ready?”

“Mhm, let me just grab my shoes.” Newt turns his face to kiss Hermann’s hand then hurries off toward what Hermann guesses is his room.

He comes back out with a pair of black dress shoes and Hermann takes a moment to fully look him over. He’s in a nice pair of gray slacks and a pretty blue button down with a gray vest over it that matches the slacks. Bent over tying his shoes, Hermann can’t help but check out his ass in those dress pants. They’re tight in a way that puts that ass on display. He looks really good. Hermann smiles and rakes his eyes back up, finding Newt catching him gawking. He blushes and clears his throat.

“Please, look all you want,” Newt says in a purr of a voice that sinks into Hermann’s gut. 

He does  _ not  _ need to get that turned on just before dinner, thank you very much. But it’s a little late for that thought because Newton just  _ does _ things to him that he hasn’t experienced in a few years. He clears his throat again, chuckles, and holds out his arm for Newt to take. 

On the drive to the restaurant, Newt needles Hermann for more details about his work, asking what more he’s gotten done in the last two days. There’s not much to update on, so they instead fall into debating the possibility of a hidden planet in the Milky Way. It somehow turns to debating alien invasions, and they both agree they’d want to be heavily involved in whatever came from that situation. 

“We could share a lab, make breakthroughs together that save the world,” Newton was saying as they walked inside Tanaka’s. He holds the door open for Hermann.

“We’d argue more than we’d find solutions.” Hermann pauses long enough to give his attention to the hostess. “Good evening, we have a reservation for Gottlieb.”

The woman nods and leads them through the restaurant to a little corner table with a candle on it. It’s near a window that looks out over the busy streets and shops the restaurant sits in. Neon lights are shining across the night’s looming darkness, switching sunlight for the twinkling lights that fill a city’s night.

Newton is shaking his head, face cast half in candlelight half in purple neon from an electronics shop across the way. “Nah, we’d get through it and work well together, I just know it.”

“We can’t even agree on this, how would we work through the actual scenario?” Hermann postulates, reaching across the table and placing his hand over one of Newt’s. A habit he has from his time with Vanessa; arguments, even debates, required connection that wasn’t negative.

Newt smiles and runs his thumb along Hermann’s hand. “Because at the end of the night, I’m taking you to bed.”

“How…” Hermann shakes his head and tries again. “How did you come to that conclusion?” It’s not likely  _ wrong _ but--

“Good evening gentleman. Have you had time to peruse our menu?” A server stands before them now and they’re pulled from the debate. 

Hermann realizes he hasn’t looked at it at all and quickly scoops one up. Fortunately, he knows the menu by heart at this point. He glances up and sees Newton doing the same as he, “Er, I know what I would like. Darling?”

“Go first and I’ll be ready,” Newt says.

“May we start with gyoza and takoyaki? A bottle of hot sake, and I’ll have nabeyaki udon.”

“Ooh,” Newt perks up happily. “Takoyaki and sake! And can I have katsu curry?”

“Right away, sirs,” the server says and leaves them to their debate once more.

Newton retakes Hermann’s hand in his, and gives him a very serious look. Hermann raises an eyebrow and slants his jaw, waiting for whatever nonsense he’s sure is about to spill from the man’s lips.

~*~*~*~

Newton watches Hermann’s face contort in anticipation of where Newt’s about to take this ‘argument’ of theirs. It makes Newt smile. “As I was saying, we’re going to argue all night, and since we won’t come to a conclusion about the aliens, you’ll  _ have _ to come inside when you bring me home, and then I’ll  _ have _ to jump you because you decided to dress like  _ that _ , and into bed we go.”

He watches Hermann’s pale skin flush with that shy embarrassment of his, and it makes Newt’s heart just warm in his chest. This man is something else, and Newt actually gets to keep him. 

“That’s a fairly sound argument, actually,” Hermann eventually manages. “I suppose we shall see.” His hand squeezes in Newt’s grasp and they both end up chuckling over the table.

“So this weekend a draft of my research paper is due. I’d like to spend some time working on it, but I would uh,” Newt clears his throat. They’ve shared a lot of their work already, and Hermann has been enthusiastic about it so far, but this is something new. This is reaching out and asking him to specifically look at it instead of the two of them asking to look at the other’s work. He feels nervous to ask, though a voice in the back of his mind tells him it’s ridiculous to feel nervous about. “You wouldn’t have time this weekend to take a look at it before I send it in, would you?”

Hermann’s face beams, his smile toothy and wide. It puts little crinkles in the corners of his eyes and Newt loves it. “Absolutely. We could get coffee and sit out somewhere.”

Newt chuckles. “Planning a date while already on one? You must be feeling like you’ll get lucky tonight,” he teases.

That bright smile becomes a playful glare and Hermann pulls his hand away from Newt’s. “If anyone is going to ‘get lucky’, it will be you.”

“That a promise?”

Hermann sniffs. “Absolutely.”

When their meals come, they sit back and take a moment to eat in companionable silence. It’s all very good, and Newt’s glad Hermann made the suggestion. As he looks across the table now, sees Hermann lit by streetlights and feels the world moving around them, his heart warms to be here in this moment with the man. They’re in the world, the actual world without having a contract between them. It’s raw and real.

It comes from no where. It burbles up past fear, past reluctance and repression. Newt couldn’t have held it back if he tried. “I was nearly...hurt...um, on the job. That’s why, well when you drew me. My picture? You were just looking so closely at me. It was intense, and there wasn’t anywhere to go while you just focused on me. And suddenly, I was there with, with him again, trapped.” His voice is low, trying not to be overheard. This isn’t the place for this, but everything is tumbling out and real all of a sudden. The numbness melting and making Newt feel  _ real _ . Too real.

Hermann sets his chopsticks down carefully, dabs at the edges of his mouth with a napkin, and clears his throat. “Newton,” he says, reaching over and setting his hand, palm up, near Newton. He doesn’t take Newt’s hand, just offers his own. “I’m very sorry that that happened. I don’t know that there is anything I can do to help, but I am here for whatever you need of me.”

“I…” Newt reaches over and puts his hand in Hermann’s. “I didn’t mean to start that conversation here, tonight.” He looks down and feels his hand squeezed, feels Hermann’s thumb run over his skin soothingly. “I’ve talked a bit with Sacha and Aleksis about it, about whether or not to keep working there.”

“Mhm?” Hermann isn’t judgmental about it, doesn’t sound like he wants to tell Newton to stop, to quit, to find something else because they’re dating. He’s just there, as support, like he said.

“I flipped a coin.”

Hermann lets out half a chuckle, something reactionary apparently because he schools his face immediately afterwards and squeezes Newton’s hand. “Not the most scientific of methods, but I see the draw. And what did the coin tell you, darling?”

“I don’t know. Sacha didn’t let me see it. She said I would know before I saw it what answer I wanted.” He clears his throat and squeezes back. “I want to quit. I want to do something with my degrees after I finish my newest one. In the field maybe. Our little excursion really got me thinking.”

“Alright. I think that’s admirable. Just because you are leaving the job does not mean you failed it in any way, or that you’re being chased away or quitting.” Hermann looks down at the table, taking a moment to draw strength it seems, or to assess what help his words are giving. “It’s just progression. That’s not always done in a linear or upward direction, so I do not mean that you are moving on to something better, just something that fits your current self better.”

Newt’s breath sticks at those words. They make sense. They make him feel a lot better about things actually. “Thank you, Hermann.”

“You’re welcome.”

As they ate and talked, it felt like a weight was lifted from Newton’s shoulders. He breathed easier, spoke with a happy lightness, and knew that things were going to be okay.

When they finish dinner, Newt sits back in his chair and smiles, adjusting his glasses. “So. Can I talk you back to my place?”

Hermann sits back as well, tapping his fingers on the edge of the table like he’s nervous to answer. “That was the plan, was it not?”

It’s cute, that sudden shyness. It must be part of the more authentic Hermann, part of him that comes out when there is a pressure on the relationship to be real. It’s endearing. He had moments of shyness before, but this feels different. It hums through that atmosphere between them. “I was definitely hoping we’d stick to that plan. It’s nice hanging out with you.”

“Mm yes, and one dinner is too short a time with you.” Hermann looks up when the waiter approaches and holds up a hand for the bill in his hand.

“Wait, let’s split it,” Newton offers. He knows that Shatter’s prices aren’t cheap, and he’s paid for a lot of their time together already. He’s sure Hermann won’t let Newt pay outright but splitting might be acceptable.

Hermann purses his lips, takes a breath, and lets it out slowly. “Alright, fine.” He sets the bill down so they can both see, and Newt pulls cash out of his wallet. Enough to tip well, too.

They fill the booklet with payment and tip, then stand together to leave. Hermann folds the napkin he had in his lap and sets it carefully on the tabletop. Newt’s heart flutters at the man’s thoughtfulness in all of the little things. He’s a good guy.

Holding out a hand subtly, Newt lets Hermann decide if he’ll take it as they walk out. He does, and they curl their fingers together as they stroll out slowly, stuffed full of good food and great company. Newt bumps their shoulders as they step outside in the cooler air. “Thanks for dinner. This was nice.”

“It really was. Thank you for sharing your fears with me. It was a good start, I think.” Hermann swings his hand a bit. “I’m sure you’ll have more to talk about with it down the road, and I’m here for that. I’d love to talk you through whatever your plans are for your degrees.”

“That would be nice.” Newt hesitates when they get to the car, not wanting to let go of Hermann’s warm hand yet. 

Hermann tugs him closer, flush against his chest, and dips his head down to kiss him deeply. His mouth is warm and tastes of Japanese spices, the food permeating their clothes and taste buds. Newt slides his hands up Hermann’s chest, tangling his fingers in the shoulders of his shirt. He groans into the kiss, slides his tongue over Hermann’s bottom lip, and clings to him.

And it is Hermann who has to break their hold on each other. He pulls back softly, sets one more peck of a kiss on Newton’s lips, and then steps back so there’s space between them. With his hands on Newt’s hips he says, “Shall we?”

“Oh, I sure hope we shall.” Newt chuckles.

“I’m sure you could charm me into your bed.” Hermann winks and turns away to get into the car.

The drive back to Newt’s apartment isn’t long, but it’s long enough to be frustrating after that insinuation. Newt’s absolutely buzzing as they park and head to the elevator. He’s pretty sure that he would have jumped Hermann in the elevator for a quick make-out if there hadn’t been someone else riding up with them. As it is, they hold hands, bump shoulders, and shoot each other less than subtle looks. The elevator must  _ reek _ of the beautiful tension growing between them.

When the elevator doors pinged open, Newt yanks Hermann along. He hears the cane land harder than usual and gives a sheepish grin over his shoulder. “Good?”

“I’m fine, but Newt really?” He is frowning that jaw-slanting look at him, like Newt is a petulant child he needs to correct.

He slows and squeezes Hermann’s hand. “Just excited. Sorry.”

“It’s not like this is our first time.”

Newt snorts. “Yeah, I know exactly what I’m looking forward to.” He sticks his key in the lock, stumbling with twitchy hands. He manages the door open while still holding Hermann’s hand, and the man is just chuckling as he’s dragged along in Newt’s excited wake.

“That’s a good point,” Hermann says and shuts the door behind them.

The entirety of Newt’s attention is on Hermann now as he moves backward through his apartment. Having been there for years, he’s very familiar with the layout and manages to avoid most of the furniture. The kiss he’s enveloped in is distracting though, and Newt’s hip finds the back of his couch as they’re passing by. He’s yanked a bit off center, and he lets go of Hermann immediately, not wanting to pull him down too if Newt falls. He grapples with the couch and hears the scuffle of feet and a cane, then Hermann laughing.

“This is why you should slow down, darling. You’re going to hurt yourself.” He’s laughing still though and now he’s stepping closer and hovering over Newt as Newt grips the back of the couch to help himself stand. He brings a hand up, traces along Newt’s jaw line.

As Hermann’s fingers come back down and over to his lips, Newton’s eyes fall closed as he does slow down now. He gives in to the feeling of Hermann touching him, tracing the outlines of his face, taking his glasses away and pressing kisses along his cheeks. 

“In my last tour,” Hermann whispers, keeping the atmosphere close about the two of them, “I did not get to see your bedroom. Lead me?”

Newt manages a nod and he keeps as close to Hermann as he can, not daring to break this sudden, slow rhythm they’ve found. They don’t stumble this time, and Newt pulls Hermann into another kiss near his bed. He tries to keep the contact of lips as he climbs back on the bed, tugging Hermann down on top of him. There’s a bit of awkward fumbling that’s met with laughter and giggles against pressed mouths as they shimmy back together. The fumbling continues as they try to pull each other’s clothes off while sprawled together like this.

Newt manages to tug their pants down, kicking them off the bed. Hermann elbows Newt’s ribs a touch as he yanks his shirt and vest over his head. 

“Oof, hey there elbows,” Newt chuckles and grabs Hermann’s arm, bringing his lips to his wrist and kissing the inside of it as Hermann mumbles an apology. “Hey, did I mention that you looked really nice tonight? That outfit was so you.”

He watches a blush bloom over Hermann’s cheeks. “Thank you. For making me feel comfortable about being myself.”

Newt hates anyone who would make Hermann feel the need to be different, and he plans to show him just how perfect he is tonight. “Of course, Herms. I know who I got into this with, and that person is very attractive. Hey, does person want to fuck me?”

Hermann rolls his eyes and shakes his head a bit. “IS that what you want tonight?”

Newt nods and trails his hands down Hermann’s sides, grabbing his ass and squeezing gently. “Yeah, you good with that?”

Something falls over Hermann’s face a moment but he nods. “Just uh, yeah, kiss me.” 

Newt obliges, delving his tongue into Hermann’s mouth and tasting him. He nibbles his bottom lip, licks away the feeling of teeth, and grinds his hips in his excitement. Oh. Huh. Newt’s own erection grinds along the soft cock between Hermann’s legs. Ah, he needed a little working up tonight. Newton could help with that.

“Flip over a sec?” he asks

“Alright.” Hermann isn’t meeting his eyes as he does so, settling back against the pillows and turning his face away in embarrassment perhaps. Whatever it is, Newt doesn’t like it.

He hovers over Hermann and kisses his jaw. “Hey, it’s all good. I enjoy the foreplay, too, you know. I know, I know, I was moving really quickly back there, and that’s on me, yeah?”

Hermann chuckles. “You’re very full of energy all the time, darling. It’s lovely.”

“Good, now I’m going to suck your dick, cool?”

Hermann wrinkles his nose and swats at Newt’s shoulder, which only makes Newt laugh. That’s what he was going for, lightening the mood. He nips at Hermann’s ribs on his way down, feeling him squirm a bit from the feeling. Then he wraps a couple fingers around the base of Hermann’s dick and lathes his tongue up the soft mound. He works his mouth around the head. Hermann hardened somewhat, but not enough. Newt would have to change tactics here, but before he could plan anything, Hermann’s hands went to Newt’s cheeks and made him look up.

“Hey, how about you fuck me tonight, hmm?”

“Okay.” Newt smiles and puts a kiss on Hermann’s stomach. A flash of worry pops in his head, that he’s done something wrong here and this isn’t what Hermann really wants. What if he’s pushing sex here and Hermann just wants a night to himself? “Hey, you sure about all this? I mean, I’m just as excited for a cuddle or a movie, you know.”

“No, I want this. I do darling, I promise. I just, yes, please Newt. Fuck me?”

It sounds sincere, like there’s a need thrumming behind his words, and though Newt’s not exactly sure what that need is, he can at least do as Hermann has asked. He finds himself softening somewhat and grips his dick in a hard couple of strokes, bringing sensation back there before he leans over his bed for the bottle of lube. 

Slicking himself up, he watches Hermann shift and get comfortable on the bed, spreading his knees so Newt fit easily between them. TOssing the lube aside, Newt goes back down and uses his hand to guide himself to Hermann’s ass, pressing the head of his cock slowly inside of him.

“Good?” he asks, making sure not to hurt him.

“Yes.” Hermann kisses him now and presses his hips up to meet him, and Newton slips in further.

Bottoming out, Newt stays still a moment before slowly pulling back and pressing back in. He fucks Hermann slowly, feeling Hermann’s hands at his back, his lips at his neck. It doesn’t take long as Newt focuses on the feelings, trying to ignore the worry in the back of his mind, and he feels the climax on him. He pulls out and jerks himself a couple quick times and ends up dripping cum on Hermann’s thigh.

Hermann is still soft. Unfinished.

This felt like a complete disaster and Newt doesn’t know what went wrong. He tries to offer a smile, and Hermann’s is just as tight in return.

“One sec, let me get a washcloth.” Newt scurries to the bathroom, washes himself off, then comes out with a warm cloth to wipe Hermann clean. He tosses it in the laundry basket and climbs back on the bed, sitting near Hermann who has pulled the covers over his hips.

Well. What do they do now?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm basing a lot of Newton's panic/anxiety/reaction to medication on my personal experience. It's not necessarily how everyone with panic attacks may experience them.

Hermann rolls over in bed when a sharp pain runs through his hip and he finds himself pressed against a warm body. Newton. Hermann is in Newton’s apartment still after a night that was supposed to be an amazing first ‘date’ since deciding to officially start dating. It hadn’t all  _ quite _ gone according to plan, though. Hermann had somewhat of an issue in bed. He takes in a deep breath and looks over Newt’s face as he sleeps. There’s a tautness in the draw of his eyebrows, his mouth working soundlessly in a dream-conversation. 

He needs a cup of tea. Carefully, Hermann draws back the covers so that he can slip out of them. He grabs his cane on the way out and through the apartment, and he’s nearly to the kitchen before he remembers he’s in Newton’s place and there might not be tea. Well, there should be something hot at least. Something to help him think.

The apartment itself has a chill to it, likely for how warm Newt seems to run naturally. On Hermann’s bare torso, it’s almost too cold. Still, he doesn’t want to go back and risk waking Newt just yet. The kitchen is small but neatly kept. The cups are sensibly next to the sink, right above the coffee machine. The cupboard next to them holds instant coffee and tea bags. They'll have to do in a pinch. Hermann also brings down the coffee and puts a small pot together for when Newton wakes. Rummaging around, there ends up being an old looking kettle in one of the lower cupboards, clearly not used in some time. Hermann rinses it out and puts it on the stove.

As things slowly burble to life, Hermann leans back against a counter, setting his cane aside to glance around. Again, he’s struck by how much of Newt permeates the small space. Besides the comic book-esque throw blanket, there are little monster figurines along the top of the t.v., there are papers and books strewn over the coffee table, and there’s a bookshelf that has comics and manga mixed in with the textbooks.

And there Hermann stands in the middle of it all, hoping that someday  _ he _ will be included in the feeling of belonging to Newton. He knows they will need to talk today, and he hasn’t the slightest idea what to say yet. He could blame it on the accident. Things just don’t always work well since then...but that’s a lie, and he doesn’t want that to kick off this relationship.

No, Hermann just hadn’t been feeling ‘it’, even with his attraction to Newton and his complete willingness to fuck the man. Or be fucked by the man. He knows it happens, that it shouldn’t be a big deal, but somehow it always is, isn’t it? Especially for men who have a harder time faking it. Hermann doesn’t want to fake it anyway. He wants for this to be okay, for times when his body isn’t up for the fun to be okay. There’s much more than can be done in those times than needs an erect cock for. 

The kettle whistles with boiling water. Hermann sighs and goes to it, pulling it away from the heat and perking his ears up to see if he’s woken Newton with his noise. He thinks he hears a shuffling in the bedroom. Putting water and a teabag in a mug, he seats another aside for Newt next to the brewed coffee and waits.

Stumbling out from the room in boxers, Newt is digging at his eyes with one hand, dangling his glasses from the other. “Morning. Is that coffee?” He drops the hand from his eyes, squints at the coffee and Hermann, then sticks his glasses on. “Mm, it is. You’re perfection.” 

Hermann watches the tired shuffling and smiles softly. “The least I can do when I wake you in the mornings.” He gives Newton time to get a mug of coffee, watches him cradle in his hands and bring it beneath his nose to inhale deeply, before he speaks again. “Can we talk?”

Newt pauses with the mug part way to his lips, his mouth an ‘oh’, but he nods. “Sure. Couch?”

Hermann nods and they walk to the couch together. They sit close, but far enough so their legs aren’t touching and they can turn to each other while they speak. There’s a hesitation here as they take sips of their morning drinks.

“Was it something I did?”

“No,” Hermann says fast enough he’s interrupted the last of Newton’s words. “No, you were fine. I just…” Hermann frowns, crinkling eyebrows. “It just, happens, sometimes. There was nothing wrong, but my body doesn’t always reflect how I’m, um, feeling.” There has to be a better way to explain this, but all Hermann can do is talk around the words he likely should be using. He really hopes Newt understands.

Newton is nodding. His expression is school, hands still wrapped around the coffee mug. It’s so different from his constant movement, and Hermann thinks for a moment that this is a bad sign.

Then he purses his lips and nods once. “Okay. That’s not uncommon, I just wasn’t sure because our weekend was rather full of, um, your very actively participating body, and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t pushing anything.” Newt looks down at his lap. “I started comparing myself to Mr. Anonti, that shit client I had, and I don’t want that.”

“Newton!” Hermann reaches a hand over and grips at Newt’s arm, needing his physical touch to drive away that horrific thought. “Nothing was forced or bad last night. I think once we come to more of an understanding of me, we could do better the next time this happens, but it wasn’t bad last night, understand?”

Newt pats his hand and chuckles, probably at the overexcited tone Hermann has just taken. “I understand. I still needed to explain how I felt, though.”

“Yes, of course. And never think it again.” Hermann narrows his eyes. “I refuse to have you think of yourself as a bad person.”

“Oh? That easy, huh?” Newt grins and sets his mug aside.

“Certainly. So long as you’re dating me, Newton Geiszler, I will argue with you until the end of time about what a good person you are.”

“Mm, and you know I’ll be arguing with  _ you _ about what a handsome weirdo you are.” That grin is stuck plastered to his face now, and honestly, Hermann could just eat him up for it.

Instead, he sniffs and sets his mug down too. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?” Newt says with clearly feigned innocence.

“That whole not-a-compliment, compliment thing you do.”

“Oh? Hadn’t noticed babe.”

Hermann grumbles, mutters curses, and watches Newton devolve into laughter. Things are perfect. Newton  _ has _ understood, and they can move onto the next part of all of this. “You know, while things weren’t horrible last night, they  _ could _ have been better. I feel I missed out on some post-coital cuddling and kissing.”

“Is that so? Well, we’ll have to make up for that. Or make-out.” Newt wags his eyebrows.

Rolling his eyes, Hermann drags him over the space of the couch that still separates them and puts their lips together. He thinks, just for a moment, that they both act like teenagers with one another. He brushes that aside with not caring in the least. Newton is  _ fun _ , and Hermann needs that in his life again. He needs that spontaneity.

Struck with a sudden sense of the spontaneous, Hermann pulls back and looks toward the door of the apartment. “Newton? We should go track down that kitten of yours.”

“What? Where the hell did that come from, Hermann? Not that I disagree, but like, I thought we were gunna make-out.” Newt is holding himself up over Hermann, arms straining a bit so that he can look at Hermann’s face. 

“I don’t know. A thought I’ve just had. Shall we?”

“Don’t you have to work?”

Hermann frowns. “I’ll cancel classes. It’ll just take an email.”

Newton laughs and moves easily when Hermann pushes him back off of him. They both get up and find their clothes (Hermann complains about having to wear his clothes from last night), send their messages, and gather some treats a cat might like - a can of tuna. Hermann makes Newton find a box, Newton insists he’ll carry that cat and doesn’t want to shove it in a box, all while handing Hermann a box. They’re still bickering about the logistics of the holding versus box method as they step outside and into the early morning.

“It will only be for a short time, and you won’t get all scratched up if it decides it doesn’t want to be carried anymore.”

“He.”

“What?” Hermann frowns.

“I think he’s a he. Stop calling him it.”

Hermann sighs exaggeratedly and shakes his head. “It’s a cat, Newton. It does not care one way or another how we gender it.”

“Yeah, maybe, but what if he understands you? It sounds so mean, like he’s not a creature deserving respect.”

“A cat, Newt. Cats do not have the understanding of gender and respect.” Hermann follows along with Newt’s quick pace fairly easily, the cane thunking to their fast-walking.

Newt actually pouts. He gets these big, sad eyes and shoots a pout at Hermann. “But Herms, babe, they know tone. They can  _ tell _ what you think about them. You don’t want to make him upset. He’s going to be our baby.”

They’re heading down the sidewalk toward where Newt found the kitten the first time, strolling in the nice weather.

“Our? Our! I said  _ you _ could take it home. I have nothing to do with this.”

“Mm, it was your idea to take it home.”

“No, no. You suggested it first. I just gave you my opinion.  _ You _ should get a cat. I’m fine without a pet, thank you very much.” Hermann shoves the box over to Newton, handing off all cat responsibilities with it, in his mind.

Newt takes it but keeps arguing. “But you’ll be over at my home, and you’ll see him when you’re there, and he’ll see you. He’ll know you’re my boyfriend and he’ll love you. So you’ll have to be his other dad. Or do you prefer daddy?” Newton drops his tone and waggles his eyebrows in that stupid, sexual way he does.

“Definitely  _ not _ .”

“Oh are you more of a papa kinda guy?”

“Newt-”

“Or pops? Nah, that’s not it.” He makes his voice stuffy and puts on a horrible British-like accent. “Father, father dearest, get us some milk please!” He points to the turn down a smaller street, directing them.

Hermann smacks his shoulder. “I’ve decided this was the wrong idea, and I think I shall go home now.” He turns like he’s leaving but Newt grabs his arm.

“No, no, no! Come on, I really want to save him.”

With a sigh that turns to a soft smile in the corner of his mouth, Hermann turns and stops on the sidewalk. “Alright. Since you seem so sad about it all, let’s continue.” Hermann’s not really sure what it is, but their playful arguing just feels good. It’s something akin to the debating over science while also being different. More intimate. The arguing is clearly not sincere except in the underlying, in the playfulness and the way it draws them physically closer with a pat or a tug.

They come up to the house with the porch and immediately hear a meow. “Oh, he’s here!” Newt exclaims and puts the box down, crouching with his tuna can. “Come here little guy. I have some food for you.” He taps the can on the sidewalk and from beneath the porch pops the head of an orange tabby.

Hermann has to admit, as the cat slinks out and noses toward the can, it is rather cute. So is Newton, crouched there and coaxing the thing. Newton, despite all his energy and tattoos and bravado, is quite soft. He’s been soft with Hermann, with this cat, with his feelings. Hermann loves that. He watches with a smile as Newt pets the cat while it eats.

Then Newt scoops the orange fluff ball into his arms and the cat actually bumps its head against his cheek. And that was that. The box wasn’t needed because Newton refuses to put the cat down.

“We should see if it’s chipped,” Hermann suggests.

The horrifically sad face that Newt musters nearly breaks Hermann. “Aww, but...I guess you’re right. If someone is missing this guy, they should have a chance to get him back.”

Hermann carries the box as they walk, Newt holding the cat and the empty tuna can. “Is there a shelter or vet nearby?”

Newt shrugs. “Don’t know. Never had a reason for one before.”

Pausing as they walk, Hermann tugs his phone out and does a quick map search. “Mm, about ten minutes away. Car?”

“Yeah, good idea.”

They decide to take Hermann’s car so Newton can keep holding the cat. At the vet’s, they discover the cat is definitely a stray, a boy, no chip, and no one has asked about a missing tabby.

“We need pet supplies.”

Apparently Hermann’s day is going to be full of shopping and cat care. “Alright, darling. Let’s go then.” So long as he’s doing it with Newton, he supposes he doesn’t mind all that much. Plus, he demands a stop off at home to change his clothes to something more comfortable, a pair of jeans and a nice jumper.

And then three hours later, they’re back in Newton’s apartment getting things set up. Well, Newton is setting things up. Hermann is sitting on the couch with a fresh cup of tea just watching the chaos. He has his legs curled beneath him and away from the floor where the chaos is laid out. Newt is trying to wiggle a toy for the cat while also putting together the timed feeding bowl and it's not going well.

"Newt darling, perhaps one thing at a time?"

"But I want him to know it's fun and safe here!" He pulls a fluffy tailed stuffy away and the cat bounds after it. This cat does not have any fear or insecurities about this new place he's found himself in. "And I need to make sure he has food." He gives a look to Hermman, pausing enough that the cat attacks his hand. "Ow! You know you could help."

"No, I told you. This is your cat, not mine." Hermann sips his tea and smirks victoriously. Until Newt launches a squeaky mouse at him and the cat chases after, jumping up on the couch and into Hermann's lap.

He jerks his tea up and away, managing to splash it on the back of the couch. "Newton!" 

Newton is busy laughing, but he also scrambles to his feet to retrieve the cat and the toy. "I'll get a washcloth, don't worry." 

"And more tea." Though he says that, Hermann unfurls his legs, grabs his cane, and follows into the kitchen. "What are you going to name it?"

"He."

"Not the most creative name, I must admit, but it is your cat." Hermann schools his face, slanting his jaw as he sets his cup down. 

Newt rolls his eyes and huffs, putting the cat on the ground while he fishes out a washcloth from a drawer. "I meant he's a he not an it. And I don't know what to call him yet. I want to see his temperament first."

"Playful, spastic, full of the same energy as you." Hermann tilts his head and looks at the cat who's following Newt around the kitchen. "Isaac?"

That stops Newt in his tracks. "Like Isaac Newton?" His face radiates happiness as he steps around the cat and clings to Hermann. "You're hilarious and I love that so much."

Love, he’d said. Not that he loves Hermann, no it’s too early for that isn’t it? No, he loves the humor. Take a breath Hermann, stop this nonsense. Newt must have seen the panicked trail of thoughts run through him because he lets go and steps back, waving his hands.

“Wow, I didn’t mean. I meant not that I don’t necessarily, it’s just, I mean we just, I um.” 

“No, no. I understand. I didn’t think you did, it was just...humor, that’s all.”

“Yeah, totally dude.” Newt laughs and it sounds fake.

Hermann forces a laugh as well, thinking it’s needed to break this odd tension. It sounds just as fake as Newton’s laugh. They both turn away, Hermann focusing on putting his cup of tea together, and Newt wetting the cloth then practically running to the couch to clean it up.

_ Fuck. _ Hermann takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He takes a sip of the tea and as he’s ready to face Newt again, the cat twirls around his legs, bumping its head against one of his shins. His lips twitch but he bends and strokes down its back twice before straightening back up and heading for the living room again.

“What else do you have to set up for Isaac, darling?”

Newt looks up, cloth in hand, and then looks around at the pile of things they’ve bought. “Uh, litter, this scratching post thing, and maybe find a box or something to store the toys away when he’s not using them?”

Hermann nods. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“I think I have a plastic box thing in the closet. I uh, keep random things that might be of use later. Bad habit?”

“No, useful habit.” With a smile, Hermann sets his tea on the coffee table then goes for the closet. “I’ll fetch it for you.” The conversation still feels a touch unnatural, but it was evening out. They’d get back where they were. Hermann remembers some of the stupid things that he and Vanessa had argued and tripped over early on. He’s chuckling as he comes back out with the plastic box. 

“What?” Newt’s tone is wary.

“Just remembering some arguments and misunderstandings with Vanessa.” He hands the box to Newt and sits down to sip his tea. “One time, she was making plans to see her parents, and it was so early on I assumed she was going by herself. When she asked me to buy tickets, I thought plural meant go and return so I only bought her tickets.” He shakes his head while Newt listens and opens the scratch-post box. Isaac is batting at his feet. “That went over about as well as you might expect. She thought I was making a statement about our relationship, and I had no idea because she didn’t say anything about it until she got back.”

“Oh damn.” Newt shakes his head with a half smile on his lips. He lifts Isaac up and snuffles into his fur. “Want to snuggle Isaac. It’ll make you feel better.”

“No, thank you.”

“Fine, I get all the cuddles.” As he says it, Isaac squirms his way out of his grasp, grabs a toy, then takes off running. “Aww fine, traitor. I’ll give him snuggles.” 

Hermann sets his cup down as he sees Newt making his way up on the couch. Stretching out an arm, he lets Newt curl up against his side, and they both take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Contentment. Hermann tilts his head to rest on top of Newton’s and they watch Isaac roll around with toys, a flash or orange and white as he skitters across the living room.

“Thanks for today, Herms. This is nice.”

“Mm, you’re welcome.”

Then, a knock at the front door.

“Um.” Newt straightens up with a frown. “Don’t know who that could be…” He pushes his glasses up and gets up, heading for the door. 

Hermann takes a moment to straighten himself up. If someone is coming in, he wants to make sure he looks alright. He’s glad he’s changed, but now he feels quite scruffy. No shower and jeans? He grimaces, grabs his cane, and stands up, smoothing down the pants as if that would make them something else. He grimaces again and hears voices.

“Sacha? Aleksis? What are you guys doing here?”

“Wanted to see how date went,” a woman’s voice answers.

Newt mutters something he can’t hear then louder, “It  _ is _ going really good.”

“Really well,” Hermann says loud enough to be heard. “It is going really well, not good. Honestly, Newton Geiszler, what am I to do with you?”

“Oh, he’s still here!” The woman sounds excited now and there are sounds of shuffling around. Likely the Kaidonovskys pushing past Newton to get inside. 

This is it. Hermann is going to meet Newt’s friends. He is going to be judged and tested to see if he is good enough for Newton. Hermann shouldn’t have corrected him like that. It might be playful when they’re alone, but as a first impression it probably didn’t look so good. What if they think Hermann is bosy? Well, he is a bit, he supposes. 

His trainwreck of thoughts are interrupted when the largest pair of Russians he’s ever met come strolling into the apartment. They make the place feel small, like they’re trying to fill every space they enter. Sacha has a smile on her face, but Aleksis has a schooled expression. Hermann can’t tell if he’s angry, indifferent, or just lost in thought. It’s a bit unnerving.

“Hermann Gottlieb?” Sacha asks jutting a hand out for him to shake.

“Er, yes. And you must be Sacha?” He places his hand in hers and now his hand looks small. Delicate. She grips it back firmly but not crushing.

“Yes. Newt talks about me?” Sacha is still smiling but in such a way that Hermann wonders if she smiles all that much usually. He thinks not.

Hermann nods. “A bit yet. You are his best friends and I suspect you helped him while we were at the cabin. Thank you for that.”

“Of course. We’ll always be here for Newt. He’s good man.”

With a widening smile, Hermann nods again more emphatically. “He really is. I try to remind him of that fact.”

Newton snorts and collapses on the couch. “Well, this was unexpected.”

“What’s this?” Aleksis is holding Isaac and the cat keeps batting toward his nose. He holds the thing just out of reach, though.

“Oh! I got a new cat. Just today. Hermann helped me get him. Remember the one outside that I wanted to find? That’s him. We’re calling him Isaac.” He grins slyly, hinting at the humor of the name.

Sacha frowns and glances between Hermann and Newt. “Why give the cat a person name?”

“For Isaac Newton,” Aleksis says and drops Isaac in Newt’s lap. “Funny.”

The man does sound amused though he doesn’t laugh. Hermann is going to have to watch them for a little while to understand the nuances of their expressions. He thinks he rather likes them so far. 

Newton holds Isaac, petting the cat as it cuddles up happily in the attention it’s getting. Hermann also quite likes that happy look on Newt’s face. It makes his own chest swell with warmth.

“Should we leave the two of you alone?” Sacha and Aleksis are both still standing, as is Hermann. There’s a sense of hesitation between everyone, like no one is sure what is supposed to happen next.

“You don’t have to. We were just settling in to hang out for a bit.” Newt glances to Hermann. “If it’s okay with you. You can say no if you had...other plans.”

That stupid wink he gives makes Hermann narrow his eyes. “Perhaps later, if you’re good,” he smirks and retakes his seat on the couch right up against Newton. “And sure, stay. It will be nice getting to know people from Newton’s life.

The tension breaks. In a wave of movement, everyone settles around the room, and falls into conversation with each other. They talk about Shatter, about funny stories from their friendship, about Newt’s new aspirations with his degrees. Hermann hangs on every word, soaking up as much of Newton Geiszler as he can. Eventually, they put in a horrid monster movie, but it does give Hermann the opportunity to snuggle up with Newton. It is a good night.

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Newt is reluctant to have Hermann go home, but it’s practical. He doesn’t have his things and is uncomfortable staying a second night as a surprise. If Hermann had invited him over, Newt likely wouldn’t want to go since it’s Isaac’s first night here, so they’re stuck spending the night alone.

It’s fine. Newt isn’t a super clingy person. Or, well, he  _ wasn’t _ . However with Hermann, Newt does actually feel needy about the man.

With a sigh, he starts picking up the house. There are some dishes he made the others leave behind and of course all the things from the cat. He is hoping that cleaning up will give him something other than Hermann to think about, but they’re such easy and repetitive motions that it only serves to get him more lost. When Isaac curls around his legs as he washes dishes, Newt smiles down at him.

“Hey buddy. You need cuddles, too? We can curl up in bed when I’m done. Get you all snuggly and used to this place.”

Isaac meows at him, and Newt takes that as agreement. So it’s a plan; cuddle with a cat and scroll on the phone. A relaxing way to end the exciting day. He finishes off the cleaning and scoops up the cat. Newt is still surprised that Hermann even suggested going for the cat. Newt knows he’ll warm up to Isaac; he saw the man glance at him, sneak a few pets when he thought Newt wasn’t looking. It was actually pretty cute.

Heading into his room, Newt sets Isaac on the bed and gives him a few pets before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. Isaac settles and gives himself a bath, so Newt keeps the door open and talks to him. 

“You know, I’ve never had a cat before you, Isaac. You gotta let me know if I do something wrong, okay? And don’t worry about Hermann, he’ll warm up. It just takes a minute to get through that grumpy exterior. Once you’re in though, man is he great. I know, I know, we just started dating, but I can tell he’s a great guy. You just get a feeling, right?” Newt sighs, washes and dries his face, then comes back out. He strips down and snags a fresh pair of boxers for bed and a white undershirt, then looks down at himself. “I think Hermann’s right. I’d really like to get back into research and fieldwork. What do you think, Isaac? Back to school and science?”

Isaac gave a loud purr and stretched on the bed, belly up and inviting. 

“Ooh, I’ve heard this is a trap,” Newt says as he reaches a hand out tentatively toward the cat’s belly. “No claws, now, little guy.” He touches down in the soft, warm fur and Isaac seems to enjoy the pets. Getting up on the bed, Newt lies down next to him and keeps petting him.

“I already miss sleeping with someone. Not like sex, get your mind out of the gutter, Isaac. Just sleeping, cuddling.” Isaac mews. “I know you’re here to cuddle, but it’s not really the same. Sorry, but it’s true. You are really cute though.” Newt runs his fingers over the cat and lets his eyes fall shut as he thinks about his life. 

There’s going to be a lot of changes on his horizon, but instead of the looming fear he’s always felt about that, a bloom of excitement is building. Even if things don’t work out the way he expects, and so far they haven’t, he knows he’ll stay standing. He drifts off curled around Isaac, not even getting under the covers, and sleeps deeply.

The closet is a mess. It hasn’t been gone through in a while, and Newt really wants his favorite sweatshirt. His apartment is cold today and he’s still just shivering in his boxers and undershirt. What a pain. He’s pretty sure it was hanging up near the back and must have fallen down among the things he keeps stored there. So, he hauls out a box and some clothes come tumbling down with them. Setting the box aside, admittedly curious about what he’s put it in, he turns back to shuffle through the clothes. Before he finds the sweatshirt, though, he finds a silken gray shirt and a jacket he could never afford. 

Newton forgot that he’d put the shirt and jacket there. Threw them there, really. He’d gotten home that night and Aleksis helped him change. Newton angrily tore the shirt and jacket off and tossed in the bottom of his closet, shoving it back there in a fit. Aleksis had pulled him away and directed him to his dresser with his graphic t-shirts. If Aleksis hadn’t been there, he might have had a much bigger breakdown. He has to remember to thank them again. After he figures out how to deal with the myriad emotions that are overcoming him.

Panic is the overwhelming feeling. Sure, Mr. Antoni hadn’t gotten Newt’s personal information, but what if he ran his plates? Someone that rich has connections, surely. And if he has Newton’s address...Why does he have a closet full of clothes that fit other people? And he’d had something perfect for Newt. Maybe he has a type. Other than the tattoos because that had clearly been a turn-off. But someone of Newt’s stature maybe. And they’d left Newt’s clothes in that closet. Replaced by what he was given. What if that was some sick part of this guys interest in him.

Newt’s gut tries to turn inside out and he can't feel his heart anymore. His hands are shaking as he drops the shirt and jacket on the floor then runs for the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him, some false feeling of minimal security. Newt collapses over the toilet and empties an already empty stomach. His fingers grip at the porcelain, his chest aches. When he falls back, wiping an arm across his mouth, he scoots back to sit against the wall, knees drawn up. He wraps his arms around his legs and rocks as he thinks.

“You’re fine, Newton. Get a hold of yourself. What is wrong with you?” Despite his words, he can’t shake the panic coursing through him. He feels like at any second Mr. Antoni could come through the bathroom door. Instead, he just hears scratching and meows. “Give me a minute, Isaac! I’m sorry baby, just--” He’s out of breath just from speaking, gulping in whatever air he can get. 

His body is starting to ache. He needs something. Someone.

Newton needs Hermann, but he’s probably getting ready for work. No, Newt can manage until Hermann is free later. He should shower and text him to come over tonight, explain he’s just having a rough time and would like a little help. But don’t worry, you don’t have to leave work, I just need you when you’re free.

Struggling to his feet, Newt let’s Isaac in before he goes to the shower. He most just stands in the heat, letting steam billow around him. The steam helps relax taut and shaky muscles. The water clears away some bad thoughts as things settle. His chest still feels tight and he can’t get enough oxygen in, but knowing he’s going to ask Hermann to come over and the man is very likely to say yes gives some ease to the panic.

Sinking down to the shower floor, Newton sits there and just focuses on his breathing. Deep breath in, slowly out through the mouth. Breath in through the nose, long breath out through the mouth. He puts a hand to his chest, feeling the breaths he takes. His shoulders are starting to relax. His chest is starting to loosen. 

Newt’s not sure how long he sits there exactly, but the water turns cold and he decides to get up when he begins shivering. His body still feels a little shaky from the adrenaline that had just been pumped through him, but he can stand and walk and breathe. He counts that as a win. Wrapping himself in a towel, he walks out with Isaac at his ankles and does his best not to step on the little guy.

“You’re not making this whole walking thing very easy there, my dude.” 

When they reach the bed, he pats at it so Isaac jumps up. He gives the cat a couple of pets to settle him then goes to the dresser and puts on safe clothes. An old Godzilla t-shirt, some jeans so faded and old they’ve got tears at the seams and holes in the legs. Socks are stuffed on his feet. Finally, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and turns to the closet again. He wants that sweatshirt. He needs that comfort now. He’s careful not to pay too much attention to Mr. Antoni’s clothes as he reaches in for his sweatshirt. He finds it, fallen where he thought, and brings it to his nose, inhaling. It smells like laundry soap. Slipping into it, Newt clicks his tongue at Isaac and scurries from the room, shutting the door behind them. He wonders if it will be stupid to ask Hermann to go in there alone and throw those clothes away.

The kitchen floor is cold on his feet, but he wraps his arms around himself tightly and pads to the coffee pot. He half-climbs on the counter to reach a special batch of coffee beans from the top shelf of his cupboards. Today is shit and deserves the very best. Bringing the bag down, he scoops out a measured amount into his electric grinder and lets it mince the beans to an earthy dust; Isaac does not like the noise and scrambles. Newton coaxes him out when it’s all done with a couple of treats. “Sorry about that buddy.”

He stands, bleary eyed and staring at a spot on his counter that is scratched. His thoughts are mush and slowly drifting to things that need fixing around the apartment. The counter here, a light bulb needs changing in the hallway, he thinks the sink is getting a little backed up probably from shaving over it. He really should buy Drano and stop shaving directly over the sink.

When the coffee pot burbles it’s last few drops, he gets a caramel creamer from the fridge and puts a cup together. A big mug, in fact. Then he collapses on the couch, legs crossed under him, and clutches the coffee mug. His thoughts have turned to… nothing. Blank. Alone.

Newt forgot to send the text. 

He realizes at nearly noon and grabs his phone sending a message to Hermann.

_ Hey, um, would you mind stopping by tonight? You don’t have to stay, but I just need someone right now. Not like, RIGHT now, but like tonight. Just to talk a bit. _

He reads it, erases it, writes it again exactly the same and hovers over the delete button. Does he sound too needy? Should he just ask Hermann to come over and not explain so much? Newt quickly presses the send button then chucks his phone to the other side of the couch. Distance, he just needs some distance. He hates talking about shit like this. It’s so much easier for him to help someone else going through bullshit, to give them advice and validate their feelings. That’s basically his job with Shatter, emotional support. It’s what he’s enjoyed about working there for so long. To have to put himself on the other side of things is not comfortable.

He clings to his now empty mug of coffee and watches Isaac, but what he’s really focused on is listening for a message to come through his phone. When it does chime with a notification, he nearly jumps out of his skin. Taking a breath first, Newt reaches over and picks it up. He’s preparing himself to see something negative. He can’t say what might be there, but he’s prepared for anything.

_ Of course, Darling. I can be at your place by 4:30. If you would like me to pick up something for dinner, it might be closer to 5:00. Which would you like, Newt? _

His fucking perfect grammar text messages with commas and punctuation and bullshit just make Newt feel giddy. He really likes Hermann, and the man isn’t letting him down. 

_ Dinner sounds good. Whatever you want is fine. I’m not picky. _

Newt can’t make too many decisions right now. His brain is an erratic mess and he really hopes he’s not asked to choose a place. It takes barely a minute before a response comes through.

_ Certainly. I will be there by 5:00 then. If you need to keep texting today, please don’t hesitate. I’ll answer when I can, so if I’m quiet, do not think that I am upset or judging what you send me. I might be in a class, that’s all, alright Darling? _

Hermann capitalizes darling, like it’s a title he’s given Newt. Newt’s not sure he’s deserving of the title right now. There’s a rational part of his brain trying to argue with that, telling him he’s only thinking these things because he’s going through a panic attack, but it’s so quiet right now. He tries to grab at it and make it the overwhelming feeling, but the self doubt is louder. He can feel the panic growing again. He hates when the rush of thoughts move from worry to worry, like they’re gripping at everything negative inside of him and won’t let go. 

His fingers stutter over the keys and he sends the message with the typos still there and chucks his phone again.

_ Yes thast goood thnks _

Newt squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he’d fixed those mistakes. He shakes his head and collapses back along the couch, shoving his head into the cushions and dragging the blanket over him. He can hide here until his mind settles. 

It’s nearly three when Newt emerges, exhausted but mind now a slow crawl of non-important thoughts. More importantly, they aren’t hateful thoughts about himself. His growling stomach reminds him he hasn’t actually had anything other than coffee today, so he drags himself to the kitchen to make food. Isaac follows, mewling at him. 

“Oh! Are you out of food too?” He grabs wet food; the cat deserves something nice, he thinks. He puts some on a small plate and sets it down next to Isaac who happily digs in. 

Newt makes himself a sandwich and sits on the kitchen floor with Isaac. “I’m a mess buddy, but yell at me and I’ll at least take care of you, okay?” He reaches over and scritches behind his ears.

The two of them sit there for a while, just eating and enjoying each other’s presence. A beeping from the phone sounds from the couch, just one signaling a text message. It’s so far away and it will take a lot of energy to climb up from the floor. So, Newt leaves it for now. It’s just after three so likely not a message about food from Hermann. Maybe just the Kaidonovskys checking on him. Isaac is still there with him, giving himself a bath after eating. 

After a few more minutes, Newt managed to gather enough energy to stand up and walk to the couch. He grabs the phone and sees he was right. Sacha asking what he’s up to tonight.

_ Hermanns coming over, dinner date _

_ OK we need game night again soon _

_ Absolutely! Maybe Hermann can come? _

_ Yes. _

Flipping the phone over in his hands, Newt looks around and decides that he can slowly wander around the place and tidy up before Hermann gets here. After putting some of Isaac’s toys in the box, all he wants to do is drop in bed and sleep until 5:00. He takes a breath, standing in the middle of the living room and makes himself fold the blanket and hang it on the back of the couch where it belongs. If he sits on the couch, he’s not getting up again, so he paces the apartment. Isaac brings a toy mouse to him that he throws down the hallway and Isaac pounces after. 

He didn’t know cats played fetch, but Isaac keeps bringing it back and making a  _ mrrp _ noise at him. Newt sits and throws it, has it returned, and throws it again. It’s better than just sleeping all day, right?

It turns out playing with Isaac is a great distraction. Before he realizes how much time has passed, there’s a knock at his door. He topples a bit onto his hand as he tries to stand, then scuttles for the door on slipping, socked feet. Isaac yowls from the living room and hides under the couch. Yanking the door open, he finds Hermann standing there with arms full of bags of food.

“Hermann,” Newt breathes out like a prayer. He grabs some of the bags and ushers him in. He wants to get his arms around Hermann, but that means getting these stupid bags out of the way first.

“After you sent that text, well I thought you might not be doing well. I brought food from a few places…” Hermann blushes as he follows Newt inside and shuts the door behind them.

They move to the kitchen, setting the bags on the table. “Yeah, I uh.” Newt clears his throat. “Can we just sit for a minute?”

“Sure.” Hermann puts his bag down and shifts his cane so he can properly use it again. “First, though, come here a moment?”

Frowning, eyebrows drawn together, Newt goes over to stand in front of Hermann and looks up at him. Hermann places a hand against Newt’s cheek and just gazes back at him. He puts his forehead to Newt’s, and Newt closes his eyes. The breath he takes while Hermann stands there with him, quiet and still, is the best breath he’s taken all day.

“Come, let’s sit.” Hermann draws away from him slowly, and they walk together to the couch. Hermann sits to one side, leaning against the arm, and beckons Newt over to him. “Set your head in my lap?”

That sounds nice, actually. Newt curls up on the couch and puts his head in Hermann’s lap, face toward his belly. The arm underneath him is curled tightly against his body and his other hand tangles into Hermann’s sweater vest. His eyes focus on the argyle pattern and his nose is filled with the warm scent of  _ Hermann _ . He sighs and feels Hermann’s hand come down and twirl into his hair. Nails lightly rake over his scalp, there’s the softest tug of his hair, and then a massage of fingers out and down the back of his head and over the nape of his neck. Hermann repeats the movements, changing up the order and direction, but it sends shocks through Newt and grounds him back to  _ now _ .

At some point, Isaac senses the calm and comes back out to curl up in the little covered cat bed that Newt couldn’t resist getting him. Newt can hear him shuffling around in it and feels better about spooking the poor guy.

A half hour has to have passed when Hermann drops his hand to Newt’s shoulder, giving a light squeeze. “Shall we eat?”

“Mmmyeah.” But Newt doesn’t move right away. Instead, he snuggles forward, burying his nose in Hermann’s stomach and wrapping an arm around his lower back, squeezing himself around his boyfriend. Still such an odd thing to think. “Thanks babe,” he mumbles into him.

“You’re welcome.” Hermann sits patiently, like he has all the time in the world for this nonsense, like he isn’t hungry and his asking for food wasn’t a hint at that. Newt loves him for it.

One more breath in, and Newt sits up. The arm he’s been lying on is a bit tingly. He shakes it out as they stand up. Hermann grabs his cane and uses it to help himself up, then they head for the kitchen. Hermann really has gotten food from a bunch of places. A small personal pizza, come containers of Chinese, a bag of McDonald’s and one of Wendy’s.

There’s this stupid feeling in Newt that makes him think it’s the perfect time to cry a little. He doesn’t, but the urge sits there, wriggling in his chest as he turns to look at Hermann. “Why go through all this trouble? This must have cost a lot.”

With that cute, slanty frown he wears, Hermann just shrugs his shoulders and says, “I could tell something was wrong, and during your last panic, you seemed very low functioning. Decisions seemed like a big thing for that sort of panic, so I didn’t dare ask. Instead, I brought a bit of a few things and hoped some of it would appeal.”

“Low functioning?” Newt wrinkles his nose.

“Yes.” Hermann’s voice is flat, like that wasn’t some sort of insult but just a fact.

Searching his face for a sign that he’s mocking Newton or judging him for his panic and breakdowns, Newt finds nothing but sincerity. There’s not a leer, not a hidden smile in the corner of his mouth, just that same serious look. Until he breaks a bit, and his whole being sort of sags down.

“I really hope I can help with whatever you’re going through. I completely understand if you’re not able to talk about it, and I can just be a presence, a - a - a distraction, if that is what you need right now.”

Newt places a hand on Hermann’s bicep and rubs his thumb over it a moment. “Thanks. Again. I do want to talk, but not, not yet.”

“Fair enough. Do you want to make plates? Or shall we just bring silverware and everything to the living room?” Hermann is already reaching for a drawer, a puzzled bit of a look on his face; he didn’t know where things were here.

Newt points to the silverware drawer and then grabs some of the bags. “LIving room and forks sound great.” He’s actually rather surprised that Hermann would suggest that. Though they were a bit untraditional at the cabin, Hermann had expressed a want to sit at the table until Newton talked him out of it. They’re home now, and Hermann is wonderfully proper, but he’s going with this,  _ suggesting it, _ because he thinks Newt wll be more comfortable that way. That has to be why. “How did you know I was panicking? I texted so you couldn’t hear me, and I made sure to say it wasn’t a ‘need you right now’ moment so you wouldn’t think it was a big deal.”

Hermann laughs a little and shakes his head. “We may not have known each other long yet, but I just had a feeling. You didn’t text properly, and while you might get worse over time, it was rather sudden.” He takes in a breath and sets food down on the table before sitting back down where he was before.

Newt follows him down and waits. It seems he has more than that to say.

“The tone was wrong. I could just  _ feel _ something wasn’t right.” Hermann is looking at Newt again, searching him it seems like, for whatever might be wrong.

It’s another moment of feeling  _ seen, invaded. _ But this time, Newt does not think of that look while Hermann sits there with him. They are two very different people, and there’s no need to ever associate them. Now, the clothes still lying on his floor are another thing, and one he’ll build up to talking about. Eventually.

“It feels stupid. Nothing actually happened so I shouldn’t be so worked up about it.” Newt turns to the food needing to move while he speaks. He busies his hands with taking little bits of everything, splitting a burger in half, snagging a few fries from each bag, taking a slice of pizza. It’s a lot of food, but it’s a comfort right now. “I don’t know why I keep freaking out about it. I’ll never see him again, but awful scenarios keep popping into my head and then the panic just builds unnecessarily and I can’t stop it once it starts.”

He feels Hermann shift somewhat next to him. “Panic attacks are serious. It’s not an experience you really  _ can  _ control, I don’t think. Not without some very serious coping mechanisms.”

“Yeah.” He hopes Herman isn’t going to suggest a therapist. He can’t have that talk right now.

“Have you had panic attacks often? Is this something new?” Hermann starts helping himself to some food now too, thanking Newt when he puts the other half of the burger on his plate.

Newt shrugs his shoulders and gives an “eh” as he tilts his head one way then the other. “I’ve dealt with anxiety for a while, had a few panic attacks when I was younger. Having them this badly and so closely together is new. I really don’t want them to come back and be a problem.”

“Are you on medication for it?”

“No. I was once, but the nightmares I had while I was on it were so bad it was easier to not be on medication.” Night terrors, really. He shivers remembering them.

Hermann is quiet a moment. They both are as they eat and snuggle back up on the couch. It’s hard to snuggle, per se, but they press as close as they can, and it’s all helping. Newt’s shocked it’s working. It seems so miniscule a thing, eating and touching, but it helps.

“I want to manage this myself.” He breathes in deeply and lets out a breath. “Not, like,  _ alone, _ just not with a doctor or medication. I want you to help and Sacha and Aleksis to help. But I want to handle it myself.”

Silence for two heartbeats until Newt looks over at Hermann. “Alright. I will be here to help anyway I can, you know that.”

“Thanks Hermann. Seriously, thank you. You’ve been really great, and I’ve barely started unloading on you.” Newt flushes. “If this gets to be too much, just tell me.”

Hermann snorts. “You’re fine. This has hardly been a hassle for me. I assure you, I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

“Even if I ask you to take some clothes and put them in the dumpster outside?”

At that, Hermann leans away and frowns heavily. “What clothes? Why? I mean, I’ll do it, sure, but why?”

“Well.” Newton shoves his mouth full of pizza and chews slowly while he builds up his confidence to speak more about this. Sacha and Aleksis have gotten a little out of him, but they are friends. They aren’t the person he was trying to romance. This felt different spilling about to Hermann. He didn’t want the man to think him weak. Of course, nothing Hermann has done so far has given him any reason to believe that would be how he’ll react during this.

Newt swallows the pizza and blows out a breath. “When I met up with Mr. Antoi, he mocked my clothes and made me change into something he had in the closet, a more expensive shirt and jacket. My clothes were left behind. And then when I ran, I was still in his shirt and jacket. Not knowing what to do with them, okay, panicking a bit, I tossed them in the back of my closet and forgot about them.”

When Newt stops there and is quiet for too long, Hermann places a hand on his lower back. “Until?”

“Until today when I went digging around for this sweatshirt. It’s my favorite and it was cold today and I really wanted it, but found that stuipd shirt and jacket instead adn flashed back to that night.” He shakes his head. “They’re on my floor and I haven’t gone back in there all day.”

With a determined nod, Hermann sets his plate down on the coffee table. “I’m going to get rid of them right now so that we don’t have to think about them while we eat. They’ll be away and we can settle a bit, hmm?”

“Thanks.” It’s Newton’s word of the night, apparently.

“You’re welcome, Darling.” Hermann presses a kiss to his forehead before going to the kitchen and getting a trash bag. 

Then Newt watches him go to the bedroom. He opens the door a bit, slips inside, and shuts the door. As he stares at the shut door, it occurs to him that Hermann is keeping a shield between Newt and the object that set him off. He’s going to wrap them up and bring them away and out of Newt’s life forever. It’s a small thing, really. Throwing something away. But the implications behind it all are so, so big. A culmination of what Newt is looking for in a relationship. And he wants to cry again.

Fuck. He stuffs more pizza in his mouth instead. It would be ridiculous to cry over this. Newt shakes his head and sits back, slouching and munching. 

Hermann comes out and shuffles to the door, keeping the bag at his side away from Newt. “Be right back. Where is the rubbish bin?”

“Out in the parking lot, on the right against the building.” Newt watches him step out and sinks back down again. He loses track of time as he eats his pizza, the plate sitting on the table with the other food. He wants to wait for Hermann before he finishes eating.

It’s not long before Hermann comes back and sinks right down on the couch with him again. “Shall we try the burgers next?” he asks as though they’re just picking right up after nothing odd had just happened.

“Sure.” Newt leans over first though and Hermann catches his hint. They kiss, a quick, soft kiss, over too quickly but just what was needed for now.

They grab their burgers and settle again, bumping elbows and chuckling as they try not to make a mess on the couch. Newt doesn’t care in the least if they  _ do _ make a mess, but he doesn’t want Hermann getting caught up thinking he needs to fix anything.

“Are you staying or heading out tonight? No pressure!” Newt says quickly, realizing he might come off as pushy. “Just have different requests based on your answer, both of them good.”

Hermann chuckles. “I would love to stay, but uh, I have no clothes here and I have to finish this week at the University strong.”

“No prob. I understand.”

But then Hermann frowns and roughs a hand through his hair. “Maybe I should retrieve some things from my house and stay here for the night, though. Would that be too much?”

Newt chokes on his words for a moment because he really wants Hermann to stay. He doesn’t want to be alone tonight. “Uh, no that would be really great actually.”

“Er, would you mind taking a ride with me?”

“Not at all. Let’s go get your stuff, babe!” Newt feels a lot lighter now. He realizes that he’d had the idea of Hermann leaving and him going to bed alone in the back of his mind all day and while they were eating. It quietly picked at his nerves, but that was gone now.

So off they went to Hermann’s house briefly. They picked his things up, clothes and his bathroom kit, then piled back in the car.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay here with you?”

Hermann chuckles. “And leave Isaac alone? I didn’t figure you would feel up to that just yet. You’ve only just gotten him, and you seem well attached.”

Newt’s whole heart melts. “Thanks again. Herms. Seriously, just thank you for all of tonight.”

Hermann reaches over and puts a hand on Newton’s thigh, squeezing it and then rubbing. He leaves it there as they drive back, and Newt’s sure he’s going to get through tonight just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a clickbait story I read about escorts/prostitutes weirdest jobs. Someone just wanted to cook dinner for the escort like they used to for their late-wife, and I just wanted to see Hermann and Newton in that scene. Then the scene took on more life and now I'm writing a long fic.


End file.
